Shut Up and Trust Me
by KatelynnHutcherson
Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are two broken people, both of which have experienced great loss... But when they're together, all that melts away. But when people they both care about begin to disappear, or worse... Can their relationship survive? And will they figure out what is happening before it's too late? Modern day, AU. Mostly OOC. Light language & references
1. Prologue

**Hello, lovely reader :)  
>Thank you for selecting my story, I hope you enjoy :)<strong>

**This is set loosely in Camden, Maine (USA). I went there when I was 7 with my Dad, so this is based completely off memory (that was nearly 11 years ago). I have tried to keep it as accurate as possible, though, it is not 100%. **

**I am originally from the UK, though I travel a lot. My mannerisms might change slightly, but **_**Hey, let's keep you on your toes. ;) **_

**I hope you enjoy this story, please let me know what you think. Partly OOC. :) :) :)**

_Italics = text messages. _

_**Katniss' POV throughout the entire story.**_

**DISCLAIMER: ****I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters, they belong to the wonderful Suzanne Collins. However, the plotline of this FanFiction is my own. Enjoy.**

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><p>"Do you need anything <em>else, <em>Prim?" I ask exasperated, juggling the phone, basket and list between my hands. "I seem to have half the store in this basket."

My sister, Primrose, ponders her answer for a minute.

"Hmm, some Fruit Loops please."

"But you already have Fruit Loops, I bought you some the other week"

"I've already eaten them, Katniss.. Mom didn't have enough money for dinner."

I sigh into the receiver.

"Marshmallow or original?"

"Original please."

"Okay Prim, I'll get you some."

"I love you!" She calls, her voice echoing a few times.

"Yeah, you too. Bye Prim."

Hanging up the phone, I mentally check the groceries off her list.

"Just the Fruit Loops." I mumble to myself, dodging an overly loved up couple.

As I turn onto the correct isle, I spot a man around my own age. He's tall with a mop of blond curly hair. I can't help but think that he needs a haircut, as the ends of his hair brush against his long eyelashes. He definitely isn't unattractive.

I feel a strange pang of familiarity and recognition, though I know I have never seen him before.

I move my eyes away from his strong jaw, and muscular chest and notice that his arms are locked in the restraints of crutches. Even from this distance, I notice light scars up and down his skin. They shimmer in the store light.

I suddenly blush and stare at the floor. I realize that I had been staring at this stranger for a good few minutes. I curse under my breath, as I move the basket into my other hand.

I've never been one to notice boys, the closest I have ever come is my best friend Gale Hawthorne and that is far from romantic. But I find my eyes flitting up from the speckled floor every few seconds to the blond cripple.

As I take my first step down the shopping isle, the stranger slips from his crutches and hits the floor in a heap of limbs and metal crutch.

I look all around me.

Nobody has even looked up as this young man struggles to get up. It would be so easy to walk away and forget, no one would blame me. But I can't bring myself to turn around.

Instead, I flip the end of my braid over my shoulder so that it reaches my lower back, and walk towards him.

"Hey." I say quietly, crouching down to his side. "Are you okay?"

He looks up with wild eyes, before relaxing slightly. I put my basket on the ground.

"Oh, hey. And yeah, I'm fine." His voice is deep and warm, an element of shock laced within it. "Thank you."

I watch as he pushes himself up onto his free arm, shakes his head slightly. He looks up at me skeptically, as I offer him my hand. His eyes are unnaturally blue, sparkling in the harsh store lights.

I grab his crutch from the floor with my free hand as I help him up.

"You're welcome."

I stand back awkwardly, hiding behind my bangs as he regains his full balance. I refuse to look at him fully, so instead I stare at the floor beside his feet. I notice that he puts a fraction more of his weight over his right leg, shifting his posture.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask, picking up my basket.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Do you want me to grab you anything? You keep glancing at the cereal boxes."

"Um yeah, please."

I chuckle softly. We both seem a little awkward.

"Which one?"

He mumbles something inaudibly, a slight redness forming in his cheeks.

"What?"

"Lucky Charms please."

"Wow, someone's very mature." I joke, light sarcasm dripping from my voice.

Placing the box in his own basket, I pick up my own box of _Fruit Loop._

"Oh really, because you're one to talk." He comments, nodding towards the box in my hands, a smirk on his face.

"They're for my sister."

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say..."

He's still smiling but I scowl at him, clutching the item closer to my chest.

His gaze turns questioning, as his eyes roam over my body. I feel a shudder rake though me, for a reason I can't place. I suddenly feel out of place in my old jeans and faded t-shirt.

"As long as you're okay..."

"Peeta." He fills in, nodding his head to answer my question. "Thank you for helping me. Not many people would..."

I glance around the surrounding people, all of which are still oblivious.

"Katniss."

"That's an original name."

"My parents were quite something..."

I catch his expression change, most likely calculating my words.

"Well I like it."

"You're one of the first."

"I highly doubt that."

"Right, well it was nice meeting you Peeta. I'll see you around."

"Wait!" He calls, as I turn around.

"Yeah?"

"Can I at least buy you a coffee? To say thank you."

I pause for a moment, thinking it over. He seems sweet, but is that really my type? Do I even have a type?

"I'm sorry but I can't."

"Oh, okay then." His face falls momentarily, but is quickly replaced with his smile.

"Maybe some other time?"

"Sure."

I find myself walking away, hugging the cereal box as if it were human. Stopping, I turn back to find him staring at me. I offer a small smile, ridden with guilt, before turning and walking out of sight. As I reach the cashier a small voice at the back of my head silently wishes for another time.

* * *

><p>"What took you so long?" Prim calls as she bounds down the crooked stairs.<p>

She relieves me of the bags, taking them into the tiny kitchen.

"You asked me to buy loads of stuff." I say, shrugging.

"Okay, who did you see?" She asks, as she begins to unpack the bags.

"I didn't see anyone..."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"I'm not!" I argue, a little too defensively earning a raise of eyebrows. "I mean, I'm not... It's hot outside, that's all..."

"Uh huh."

"Prim," I warn.

"We both know you're lying, but I'll drop it anyway."

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are.

"You're blushing.

"You have your hands in your pocket, playing with the whole that seems to be in every pair of jeans you own.

"And you won't look me in the eye.

"You may as well just tell me..."

"Look, some guy fell over. That's all."

"What? Did you fall under him or something?"

"Primrose Everdeen?!"

"What?" Her voice is overly innocent, as she silently moves round the counter top.

"You shouldn't use that kind of humor!"

"Katniss, I'm 15; I've just finished my Freshman year of High School. There are worse things going on in the corridor then that."

"Do I want to know what goes on in the corridors?"

"Nope."

"Are you a part of it?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Just checking-"

"-There's no need to 'just check'. I'm not the average teenage slut that walks around with a bra 2 sizes too small."

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing, just some plastic Barbie Doll from my chemistry class. So, some guy fell?"

"Yeah, he was on crutches. He just kind of slipped."

"Ouch, what was his name?"

"Peeta."

She looks at me skeptically, trying to figure out what I'm thinking as I walk and sit at the table.

"So, you did what?"

"Helped him up."

"That's it? Nothing else?"

"No."

"He didn't even buy you a coffee or anything."

I begin gnawing at my lip, glaring at the table.

"He offered, and you said no!" She exclaims, abandoning the remaining items and dances over to me.

"I had things to do, Prim."

"Katniss, have you ever been asked out before."

"No, but-"

"Katniss..." She whines, squeezing my hands and hitting her head lightly on the table.

"What?"

"You're my sister and you know that I love you more than anyone else in this world. But my god, you are an idiot."

"Excuse me?"

"I've watched you, all this time. Before Dad died, you had loads of friends and you we're comfortable around guys. But now, you only have a handful of friends, you work most days and a guy only has to say _Hi _and you run screaming."

" I've seen what love can do, Prim. That's why I swore I'd never fall in love."

"Don't you remember all the years before he died? All the good times?"

"There weren't enough to counteract his death."

"Well obviously, but-"

"-But nothing Prim." I sigh, "You saw how Mom acted, I'd never put myself or my family through that."

"Okay, fine."

Prim knows me too well to push this, so gets up and puts away the last item.

"I'm going to work, text me when Mom get's back."

"Are you coming home tonight?"

"I don't live here anymore, Prim."

"Not even for dinner?"

"I'll eat at the diner."

"Oh, okay..."

She sounds like all the air has been knocked out of her. I catch sight of her turning away from me, staring at a fixed point out of the window.

"Prim,"

"Forget it Katniss, just go to work."

"Prim, I'm sorry." I say, walking over and taking her hand. "I'll come another day, okay?"

She sighs.

"Will you and Mom ever be okay again?"

"Maybe, someday."

"It's like, you don't even try anymore."

"I'll try, I promise."

Slowly, I wrap my arms around her small waist, silently asking for forgiveness.

"Okay."

"You'll be okay?"

"I'm 15, I can take care of myself." She says, defiantly.

"I know, little Duck. I know."

* * *

><p><em>Prim: You're out of the house?<em>

_Katniss: Yeah, why?_

_Prim: You're not coming back?_

_Katniss: Unless you're dying, no._

_Prim: Okay, Perfect. Tell me more about Peeta._

_Katniss: There is nothing to tell, Prim._

_Prim: What did he look like?_

_Katniss: Blond, curly hair. Pale skin, blue eyes. _

_Prim: He sounds cute, dreamy even._

_Katniss: You didn't even see him._

_Prim: That's why I said sounds._

_Katniss: Yeah, yeah. Whatever._

_Prim: You didn't deny it._

_Katniss: Deny what?_

_Prim: That Peeta was cute and/or dreamy._

_Katniss: He was fine, okay?_

_Prim: Rue's phoned... This will have to do for now._

_Katniss: Thank god._

_Prim: Shut up._

_Prim: Rue says Hi._

_Katniss: Hey Rue._

_Prim: She's asking if you'd date Peeta, if you ever saw him again._

_Katniss: Nice try._

_Prim: Fine, fine. I'll just say that you said yes, anyway._

_Katniss: Goodbye, Primrose._

_Prim: Opps, full named. I must have stepped over the line._

_Prim: ..._

_Prim: I LOVE YOU._

**This will be considerably shorter than the usual chapter length I plan to work to/with. As you can probably tell, this is slightly OOC, but it is an AU and you've got to love Everlark! **

**I hope you enjoyed this, please review and tell me what you think!  
>Also, feel free to PM me. :)<strong>

**-KatelynnHutcherson.**

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><p><strong>You may have noticed that I have changed this chapter (and the later ones slightly). I noticed mistakes and wanted to change some aspects. The later chapters will come later this evening. :D<strong>


	2. Chapter 1

**So, does this place Katniss works actually exist? I have no idea. Most likely not, as I completely made it up... There might be somewhere similar though - In my head, I see it kind of like the Cheesecake factory from The Big Bang Theory. :)**

Thank you for the reviews on my previous chapter. :)

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><p><em><strong>11 months later.<strong>_

I've never liked the staff room at Trinkets. Practically everything from floor to ceiling is mahogany: the table, the chairs, the chest of draws that are stuffed with spare employee clothing. If it were possible, I bet Effie would make the world out of rich mahogany wood.

Me? I prefer light and bright, not the stale smell of rotting frame work.

Oh no, don't get me wrong. Trinkets is a wonderful diner, it's just falling apart at the seams - kind of like the people who work there. Except I'm as tough as old boots, or at least that what I tell myself.

* * *

><p>I'm just tying my white frilly apron round my waist, when Jo comes bustling through the back staff door.<p>

"JOHANNA MASON, IS THAT YOU?" Effie screeches from the realms of the kitchens.

"Shit." She mumbles. "Brainless, how late am I?"

"About 20 minutes." I say bluntly. "What took you so long?"

"Well, Thom came over last night. And let me tell you, make up se-"

I cover my ears with my hands and being to hum loudly.

"Ugh, I don't want to know."

"If you weren't such an emotionless, pathetic excuse for a teenager, you might." She tells me, winking as she walks past.

"I'm not emotionless. Nor am I pathetic." I argue, folding my arms over my chest.

"Oh my god. My name is Katniss and I am 19 years old. I've never had a boyfriend before, been kissed or been asked out in any way. The only social life I have is when watch movies with my 15-year-old sister!" She says attempting to mock my voice, jumping up and down while clapping her hands. "Yeah Brainless, you're definitely a party animal."

I scowl, pursing my lips before settling them in a straight line. Thousands of retorts run through my mind, sitting on the tip of my tongue. I swallow them, turn and walk away. I hear a glimpse of her cackling laughter before the door shuts and her daily battle with Effie begins.

On the other side, where multiple families sit enjoying their late morning breakfasts, the pair's shouts are inaudible over the customer's conversations. Over the sea of tables, I spy Madge sitting idly at the bar.

I walk over to her, my anger at Johanna still pulsing through my veins like another heartbeat. She, of course, spots this a mile off and offers up a sad smile.

I met Madge on my first day working here. Although we're the same age, she was the one who trained me. With her being Effie's niece, she's worked here part-time from the age of 12. Now, at 19, we're both here up to 8 hours a day, 6 days a week. Aside from when necessary, we never really spoke.

Both of us hated the circumstances that made us work here. For Madge, it was her parents made her. But I had no choice; it was that or starve to death.

Over the course of the past few years, an unlikely friendship grew. Though neither of us were particularly talkative, we had a silent agreement to eat together and sit with each other during breaks. It worked well.

Over time, we began to trust each other.

She moved out of her family home when she turned 18 and asked me to join her, needing help with the rent and bills. She was only female friend that actually liked me, I said yes. Johanna joined us months later, needing somewhere to stay and staking claim to our spare room.

It was only when she met my childhood friend Gale, that things changed with Madge.

She grew.

Now, she's talkative and bold. Sarcastic and witty.

Maybe that has something to do with living with Johanna, but there is something about her when Gale's in the room. It's completely discussing.

"Let me guess, Jo?" She asks, snapping me from my thoughts.

I nod curtly, not trusting my voice.

From her place on the bar stool, she peers round me to look at the rotor.

"Where am I today?"

"You're with Jo, waiting tables."

"Have you noticed how you're never partnered with her?"

"Yeah, Effie's a fricking genius." I observe.

I turn around to face her again, only to find Gale silently sneaking up behind her. He motions for me to remain quiet, which earns him some rolled eyes while I fold my arms over my chest.

If this was anyone else, Madge would have heard the footsteps. Her hearing is acute. But Gale, he's eerily silent. Always has been, probably always will be.

Gale is my oldest friend; we go back to way before kindergarten. Our fathers worked together, before they were both killed in an accident at the local gas station. Gale and I, being the eldest of our siblings, were forced to try to help raise our families. Cramming in as much as possible alongside school, before it all became too much. Eventually, we had to drop out. I worked here, while Gale decided to build his own business.

At the time, I thought he was crazy.

_"You need the money now though Gale." I'd say._

_"But long-term, it works!"_

_"Your family is slowly starving!"_

_"What? You think you have to remind me? You think I can't see it with my own eyes?"_

Even now, 5 years later, I still think he was crazy. However much I hate to admit it though, his plan did work out better. He has money saved, his own flat, a healthy family with more than enough food in their stomachs. Then, there's me. I get just enough to pay my rent, and contribute to my sister's life.

If I hadn't moved out, things might be better. But I couldn't live with my mother. She forgot she had children when my father died. The number of nights we went without food, stomachs painfully empty as we faked sleep. Just listening.

She would cry every night. Wake screaming for him to run, just like Prim and I often find ourselves doing too, even now.

The book he was reading before he died, lies on the nightstand, untouched. His toothbrush sits in the bathroom.

There were too many memories.

Loss. Pain. Betrayal. Envy. Hatred. Longing.

Hope.

I come around from my thoughts, to find that I missed what seemed to have been a big romantic gesture. Her arms are locked around his neck, as a bouquet of white and red roses is in one of her hands. Their lips are connected, devouring the others.

"Ah geez." I mumble, silently moving as far back as the wall allows.

I spot Johanna emerging from the back room. She catches my eye and pretends to stick her fingers down her throat and gag, motioning to the pair.

Despite myself, I smile.

The thing about Johanna is, you can't stay mad at her. And I hate her for it.

"Miss Undersee; I pay you to work, not to eat your boyfriend's face." Effie scolds, hitting the surface next to them with a mass load of menus. "Think of the customers."

They don't even flinch, they only move their faces inches apart.

"You got me in trouble," She states, narrowing her eyes."On our Anniversary too."

"I'll make it up to you." He replies, before moving his mouth down towards her ear.  
>A blush crawls up onto her cheeks at his inaudible words.<p>

Sometimes, I hate Madge more than Johanna. She's corrupted my best friend, turning him into some loved up idiot.

As if hearing my thoughts, Gale looks up.

"You're just jealous, Everdeen."

"Ugh, you wish Hawthorne."

"Ew, no. Gross."

"Oh grow up, the pair of you." Madge fake scolds, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Yes Madge." We chorus, digressing to our younger selves.

"Okay, Effie is going to kill me." She states, unwillingly untangling herself from his side. "Leave. Now."

"Always a pleasure Katniss." He mocks, not even bothering to look at me.

I can't think of a response, so I remain quiet as they say their temporary goodbyes.

* * *

><p>The rest of my shift goes by effortlessly. I love being on the bar in the day, because no one in the right mind would drink before 3pm. But of course, Haymitch Abernathy isn't in the right mind.<p>

He and my father worked for the Capitol together a few years back and I now have this misfortune of calling him Uncle Haymitch. My father convinced me to call him so when I was 6, though now I deeply regret it.

I don't quite know what happened to him. The aging man beside me resembles nothing of the one I met 13 years ago. He was young, happy, hopeful and full of life. What we have now is a shell of a human being who drinks away his untold pains.

"When you're ready, Sweetheart." He comments in his deep, gruff voice. Waving his empty glass in the air slightly.

I nod once, getting a clean glass from the shelf and pouring a large amount of whiskey from the bottle.

"Just, give me the bottle."

I'm not given the luxury of replying. He simply grabs it from my hands and begins to down the alcohol.

I can hear Effie mumbling something about manners as she brushes past me. A ghost of a smile works its way up to my face.

"You know," Haymitch mumbles to me, the alcohol slowly taking over his body. "I like you more than the other two."

"Madge and Johanna?"

"Yeah, you don't talk. I like that."

"Neither do you, until you're out of your tree."

"You do need some new metaphors though... Out of your tree? That's Cliché." He scrunches up his nose as he speaks, looking disguised. Maybe he smelt himself.

I have nothing to comment so I remain silent and begin to wipe down the bar front.

I look up in the new found silence of the diner and notice a few groups of children gathering around several of the large windows. I find myself wondering why, but shortly dismiss it.

Before long, a clap of thunder and flash of lightning answer my abandoned question. Rain beats down on the glass, roof and walls, like an out of time drum. People slowly begin filtering in through the doors, escaping the pre-summer rain.

The orders are light, but regular enough to keep me busy. Just the way I like it.

"Katniss?" a voice breaks me from my activities and I find myself rooted to the spot.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I turn around. Facing me, is Peeta.

He stands there in jeans and a white fitted t-shirt that clings to his frame with the rain water. He looks healthier then the day we met. The crutches have gone, the scars on his arms are less pronounced. He stands as though no longer in pain. His blue eyes sparkle against his flushed cheeks and pale skin.

He looks good.

I never had an opinion on my work uniform, but now I find myself hating it. Even though he is wearing similar clothing, I feel under dressed. I'm in black skinny jeans, a plain black shirt and the signature white Trinkets' apron. All of which topped off with a pair of Madge's old, washed out navy converse.

"Peeta, hi." I say, my voice not sounding at all like my own.

The side of his mouth curves up in a slight smile.

"Kat got your tongue Sweetheart?" Haymitch asks from the sidelines, raising an eyebrow as he swings his near empty bottle from left to right. Then he bursts into a fit of laughter, as though he just realised his own joke.

I scowl at him, before turning back to Peeta.

"How are you?"

"I've not fallen over in any more supermarkets, if that's what you're asking."

Without thinking, I smile.

"And yourself?"

"I'm okay."

"Good, I'm glad."

"Um, what can I get you?" I ask, suddenly remembering my job.

"A bottle of water, please."

"Sure."

I begin to busy myself with jobs I did only moments before. Wipe down the bar, replace low stock, wipe down the bar, reset the registers, wipe down the bar.

I spot Haymitch watching me as I do so, before his eyes flit to Peeta. I scowl in his direction briefly, before continuing to work.

After a while, I begin to feel a pair of eyes burning into me. I look up, to find Peeta smiling down at me.

"What?" I ask.

He glances outside the windows before replying.

"Nothing. But I do believe I owe you a coffee."

I smile slightly, looking down at the floor.

"You remember that?"

"Apparently so." He tells me. "So when's your break?"

I look up to the comically sized clock. It reads as twenty past three.

"Not for another thirty-five minutes."

"Take it early, I'll cover for you." A voice chides.

Madge has materialized by my side. I now cannot say no.

"Are you sure?"

"You're covering for me tonight, it only seems fair."

"Oh, okay." I say quietly.

I brush my hands off on my jeans, a habit I picked up when I got nervous, scared or stressed.

"One second." I tell Peeta, as I leave the bar and head towards the staff room.

I glance over my shoulder when I reach the door, catching Madge and Haymitch talking to him in hushed voices.

If they tell him anything, at all, I will kill them.

I begin to move around hurriedly. Discarding my apron, rebraiding me hair. I stop in front of the mirror and look at myself: my tanned olive skin, black hair in the usual braid down my back, small nose and dull gray eyes. I'm not particularly special, or noticeable in any way. My medium height, and child like frame makes me as inconspicuous as they come.

I shake my head, exhaling deeply.

_'He's only being nice. There's nothing to it.'_ I silently tell myself.

With that thought in mind, I step away from the mirror and walk out of the room. Dodging the tables, I make my way back to the bar.

Haymitch looks over at me and winks, as he brings the bottle to his lips for the last dregs. I narrow my eyes, before turning my back on him.

"Hey." Peeta says, looking round at me as he catches my reflection in the back wall.

"You ready?" I ask, feeling too many pairs of eyes on me.

"Yeah, let's go."

"Be back by five!" Madge calls.

Peeta motions for me to walk in front of him, and I do so, with my arms folded over my chest awkwardly. We move in a light silence, as we walk towards a local coffee shop on the corner. The rain, apparently, a thing of the past.

"What was Madge saying?" I ask, my voice sounding harsher than I meant for it to be.

"I asked her why you were covering for her, and she began talking about her boyfriend. Gale, is it? Why do you ask?"

A smile inwardly. That's such a Madge thing to do.

"It's just, people have a knack for," I pause, trying to think of the right word.

"Embarrassing you?"

I nod.

"Something like that."

"I have friends like that."

We fall into a silence, as we wait to cross a road.

"If you're looking for the girl you met in the supermarket, she's not me. Well, it was me. But it wasn't the real me. " My voice cuts into the air.

The cool pre-summer breeze blows my bangs into my face, cutting my vision into strips. I leave them there.

"I'm not looking for anything." He tells me, stopping to free my face from hair.

I smile meekly.

"Katniss, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, letting my arms fall limply to my sides. "I'm just not good at making friends."

"It helps if you know a little about the other person."

"You know, I never would have thought that." I joke, as we reach the entrance to Wendy's Cafe.

I go to open the door, but he beats me too it

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

It's vaguely quiet inside, only a few of the tables are occupied.

"What would you like?" He asks, motioning for me to sit and any table I liked

"Uh, hot chocolate?" I answer, choosing one at random.

"Let me guess, you hate coffee?"

"I've never particularly liked it, no."

He chuckles quietly.

"Okay, one second."

I watch him as he orders: he's tall, at least half a head above me, broad shouldered and not unattractive. He has a mop of blond curls that fall in every which way down the nape of his neck, as well as across his forehead. I find myself with the urge to run my fingers through it, brushing it out of his eyes.

I shake the thought from my head.

He catches me staring at him and sticks his tongue out at me. His smile reaches his blue eyes, making him look younger than he actually his. Then I remember, I don't know his actual age.

Our eyes keep meeting from across the room, and I have flashbacks of every cheesy movie both Madge and Prim have ever made me sit through.

_It all starts with a crowded setting. Their eyes meet from across the room. Once silent conversation later, they're in love with their own happy ending._

If there is one thing I've learned from life, that is not how it works.

Peeta comes over and places a mug on the table in front of me, breaking me from the thoughts.

"You didn't have to buy me a drink, you know."

"Think of it as payback."

"For helping you off the floor?"

"Exactly."

"Damn, you're easily impressed."

He laughs silently, wrapping his lightly scarred hands around his drink.

"Coffee?" I ask, eyeing the black concoction.

He nods once, as he brings it up to his lips.

"What's your favorite color?" He asks randomly.

One of his legs begins bouncing up and down slightly. I'm about to comment, but I chose to ignore it.

"Green."

"What shade of green?"

"You really like going into detail, don't you?"

"I'm an artist, it's what we do."

I chuckle softly; bringing my own drink to my lips.

"Green, like a forest. What about you?"

"Orange."

"Like the menu?" I ask, holding up the laminated strip of neon puke.

"No," He smiles again. "More muted, like sunset."

I decide I like his smile.

"Okay, for all I know I'm having coffee with some 30 year old woman."

"Dude!" I exclaim, hitting him on the arm with the menu. "I am not 30 years old."

"Hey," he says in mock surrender, holding up his hands. "You look amazing for you age."

"Oh shut up." I say.

I meant to say it with authority, but it comes out light and giggly. What is happening to me?

"So how old are you?"

"19, you?"

"19."

"I'm not even drinking coffee." I find myself mumbling, even though the moment passed.

The rest of the conversations flow easily.

"What's your favorite food?"

"I don't have one."

"How can you not have a favorite food?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Like this." I say, motioning to my now expressionless face.

"You strange, strange girl."

"Well, what's yours?"

"Ah, now I can't answer that."

"Why not?"

"Because you didn't."

"I don't think that's how it works."

Somewhere between the discussion of our ages and what you'd do if you only had 24 hours left to live, my guard slips down. I forget the reason why I distance myself from people. I forget everything.

"What time did you say you'd be back?"

"Five."

"It's ten to, we should probably go."

I find myself feeling disappointed. Strangely enough, I would have sat there all evening. It's nothing like I've ever done before, and I like that.

"Okay." I say, hiding my deflation with my usual blank mask.

He leaves a tip on the table, and leads the way to the door, holding it open for me.

"Thank you, for the coffee."

"You didn't drink coffee." He reminds me, his smile reaching his eyes once more.

I scowl. He laughs.

"You're different from what I'd thought you'd be." He states, his voice dropping in volume.

"Good, different?" I ask, after a moment's pause.

He looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Wonderful, different"

I stare down at my shoes as we walk, smiling.

"Katniss?"

He clears his throat.

"Peeta?"

"Will, will you go on a date with me?" His voice is deep and quite. It turns suddenly vulnerable, as the crowds of the street bustle by.

This has taken a turn I never thought it would. Then again, I never saw myself making friends outside Madge, Gale and Jo. Many voices scream in my head, telling me this is a bad idea. But I silence them.

I'm going to say no. It's for the best.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

The funny thing is, my answer doesn't surprise me.

The smile he gives me so bright and infectious, it causes my smile to become that little more genuine.

_If only Johanna could see me now._

I reach into the pocket of my jeans, and find the Biro I use when waiting tables. I grab his hand and quickly scribble my number across the back of it. Without another word, I turn and run over the road and back into the diner.

* * *

><p><em>Unknown Number: Would this be the 30 year old Woman I didn't have coffee with today?<em>

_Katniss: Ugh, it's you again._

_Peeta: Woah, what a warm welcome._

_Katniss: I think you must have me mistaken with another 30 year old._

_Peeta: Shame, I liked this one..._

_Katniss: Oh haha, what's up?_

_Peeta: Date? Tomorrow?_

_Katniss: Sure, around 7pm?_

_Peeta: And you live where?_

_Katniss: STALKER ALERT._

_Peeta: Haha, seriously._

_Katniss: Ah, I can't tell you that._

_Peeta: Why not?_

_Katniss: Because you haven't told me where you live. How do I know you're not going to come and kill me in my sleep._

_Peeta: You can't use my own humor back at me, that just isn't fair._

_Katniss: Says who?_

_Peeta: Me._

_Katniss: Pick me up from 14 Wilson Avenue._

_Katniss: Oh, and if you do try to kill me in my sleep, you're the one who will end up dead._

_Peeta: Haha, you're probably right about that one._

_Peeta: You have until tomorrow to decide on your favorite food. I want to know._

_Katniss: Demanding much?_

_Peeta: I guess I have my moments. :P _

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think :D<strong>


	3. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all the lovely feedback I got from last chapter! I have messaged everyone I can (those with accounts) thanking them personally. If you're a guest: Thank you. I love you. You're the best.**

* * *

><p><em>R<em>_-i__-i-i-p!_

I grit my teeth as Madge pulls a strip of fabric from my leg, tearing out the hair (and skin) beneath it.

"What, haven't you been waxed before Brainless?" Johanna asks from somewhere behind me.

"No, because I'm not that stupid."

"Relax," Madge tells me. "This is the last one."

I grip the bed sheet, preparing myself as the final patch of my leg hair to is uprooted with a painful jerk.

I've been lying on my bed for over an hour as the pair work on remaking my body. This has so far included exfoliating my skin, turning my nails from uneven points to uniform shapes, and primarily, ridding my body of hair.

My legs, arms, torso, underarms and even parts of my eyebrows have been stripped, leaving me like a plucked bird ready for roasting. I don't like it. My skin is sore and tingly - I feel extremely vulnerable.

Still, I keep my side of the barging.

When I returned to the Diner yesterday, both were ready to pounce. Luring answers out of me like a hungry predator might it's pray. Despite myself, I told them everything.

Almost Everything.

They know that I am, in fact, going on a date with Peeta. They know that I left work to go for a coffee with him the previous day, though that is the extent of their knowledge. Everything else, like the topic of conversation, I kept to myself. They'd only twist it into something it's not.

Either way, they somehow convinced me to let them do my hair and makeup beforehand. Often, they call me their beauty virgin. I've never had an interest in falling in love, or dating in general. I never wanted to be noticed, by anyone, so I never bothered with teaching myself how to apply foundation or what an earth concealer is.

And if I let them, they weren't allowed to ask questions, tease or generally make it awkward.

I agreed, obviously.

"Okay, get up." Madge tells me.

"Where are we going?"

"The bathroom."

I can't be bothered asking why, so I mealy stand up and head towards it, tightening my robe as I go.

I hadn't realized Jo had slipped from the room. Now, the bath is full of a creamy liquid. The color deeply resembles milk, blending into the plastic tub.

"I am not getting in that." I tell them, not even daring to touch it.

"Now Katniss, what did _Uncle Haymitch_ tell you before we left work today?" Jo asks, putting emphasis on certain words.

"Not to resist." I mumble, switching my gaze to the floor.

"Exactly, so get in." Madge chides.

"Sometimes, I want to put my axe into your face, Brainless."

I scowl at the pair, mainly at the latter.

When Jo was younger, she grew up in a small Lumber District just out of the border. Her father, her one and only hero, taught her how to use an axe from a very young age. Supposedly, so that she would join him in the work force, though he apparently taught her how to survive by it too.

According to her, she knows over 57 different ways to kill with that single piece of weaponry. If there was ever a war in Maine, Jo would be on the front line. I have no doubt about it.

Though, on her 11th birthday, her smaller self skipped through the trees looking for her parents. In the exact place her father trained her, she found them both hanging from nooses. Their hands were laced together - as if they were merely strolling through the park - matching frowns on their paled faces. The words, _'Are you coming to the tree?' _were engraved into the bark beside them. It's safe to say, that Johanna Mason is not a stranger to grief.

She lost everything she truly cared about. She had no siblings, her parents were her whole family - her whole life. After surviving her final years of school, she left her small district and hitchhiked around the globe. Until she met us.

Even so, she keeps the axe in her bedroom. It lies propped up against the mantle, a constant reminder to her that love is a weakness you should never cave into.

I discovered her story on her 18th Birthday, when the alcohol took over her mind and body. I've never spoken of it since.

Despite it all, I get into the bath anyway.

In one motion, it's like all the discomfort from the past hour and a half is washed from my body. The substance soothes my itching skin, like water does a burn.

Before I can revel in the new found bliss, my hair is smothered in a mushy green wax and gets clipped to the top of my head. My nails are re-attacked with paint, baby pink with a white tip.

"It's called a French Manicure." They tell me, following my gaze. "You really know nothing about being a girl, do you?"

I shake my head in response, making my hair fall down, splattering the wall with the same green goo.

"Ugh, seriously Katniss?" Jo whines.

I breathe in through my nose deeply, trying to block out the wittering voices. I allow my mind to wonder, acting like water, muting their drawling tones.

Soon enough, I think of Peeta and the evening ahead.

We have been texting lightly over the past day and a half, though I know nothing of the evening ahead. I feel my stomach contract as a swam of butterflies invades.

Every time I speak with Peeta, the whole world melts away into nothingness. Including the voices in the back of my head. I act unlike myself, I have begun to wonder who I really am.

I'm brought out of my revive by a pair of fingers snapping in front of my face.

"What?" I ask, moving my gaze from the aging wall tiles.

Jo opens her mouth to speak, though Madge cuts in before she has the chance.

"We don't have long, time to get you ready."

"Wasn't that what you were meant to be doing for the past 2 hours?" I ask sulkily, rising from the water and wrapping a robe around my frame.

"Only hair, makeup and outfit left."

"Only?"

"Why are you complaining? We're the ones doing all the work?" Jo asks, stalking ahead.

I huff into the now empty room.

_What's wrong with jeans? _

Surprisingly, the rest of the process doesn't take too long. Johanna dries my hair, before running a hot appliance over the tips. It falls in a pin straight curtain, reaching the lower region of my back. No matter how often people tell me to cut it, I won't. When I was younger, my father used to love my hair. During early evenings, before I went to bed, he's brush it out for me. I remember his excitement when it grew just a few inches. Whether that was a faux emotion, I don't know. But it's like he's here with me.

While my hair was being fried, Madge began painting my face with a variety of products - you'd think she was decorating a house. But I close my eyes and let it all happen.

"Katniss, you can open your eyes now." She tells me softly, letting go of my face and handing me a small mirror.

The face looking back at me looks nothing like my own.

Her skin tone is even, every potential blemish rubbed away. A light dusting of pink sits on her upper cheek bones, making it look like she actually _had _them. Her eyes were covered in a shimmery power. It starts light in the corner of her eyes, gradually darkening. The black/vanilla combination make her gray eyes pop out, appearing silver. Then there is her lips. They are perfectly shaped, even and smooth. As opposed to their normal chapped and bitten down state. A rose color sits upon them, though there is no layer of grease in its wake.

As I look at myself, they arrange my hair so that my bangs fall in their usual place. For the first time in my life, I actually feel remotely pretty.

Madge then reappears in front of me, a red dress in her hand. I raise my eyebrows at her.

"I don't wear dresses."

"You do now."

"But-"

"-Katniss, Haymitch said not to resist. Now put the dress on." Sometimes, I can hear Johanna's influence in her tone.

"She's right Brainless."

I give a groan of resentment, before taking the garment and slipping it over my head.

What I thought would be a knee length dress, actually reaches mid thigh. The strapless item hugs my middle, making it look as though I had curves, before flaring out slightly at the waist.

"What do you think?" Madge asks, her eyes gleaming.

"It's very, short."

"It is knee length on me..." She says thoughtfully. "You look wonderful in it though."

"That doesn't change the fact that it's short." I reply.

"Relax Brainless, he'll love it."

I sigh, and look at myself in the full length mirror.

"Stop over thinking." A small voice saying in my ear.

Madge probably knows me the best out of everyone, not including Gale or Prim.

"I can't help it."

"Katniss, turn your brain off and have fun. You deserve it."

"I do?"

"You haven't had a night off since you were a child. Even when you're not working, you're with Prim-"

"-But I love-"

"-I never said you didn't love Prim. But she can't be your whole life forever."

I turn away from Madge.

Someday, in the near future, Prim will be all grown up. She will go off to College, get a boyfriend. Eventually get engaged, be a wife, bare children.

The thought never crossed my mind. The one person in which I am certain that I love, may not me mine to love forever. Taking a deep breath, I attempt to clear my head from every possible thought.

Johanna then holds up a pair of patent blank shoes. They have a slight heel, maybe an inch. I decide they're wearable.

As I slip them onto my feet, one of the two attach a black bangle to my wrist.

"Why?" I ask, looking at the cheep band of plastic.

"Completes the look."

I roll my eyes at them, though say nothing.

"Are we done now?" I ask, rising from the edge of the bed, onto wobbly legs.

"Almost."

I groan slightly, brushing my bangs out of my eyes, the bangle rattling as I do so.

Madge puts a black fedora onto the crown of my head.

"Hats? Really?"

"You'd be surprised, Brainless."

I look up into the mirror again, and see that it somehow dresses down the outfit, making it seem more cute and casual.

"Please tell me were done now..."

"I think so." They tell me, standing back to admire their work.

I walk over to my dressing table and open the topmost draw. Inside, I pick up one of the clear lip balms and apply it as discreetly as possible.

"What's with the kids lip crap?" Jo asks bluntly, picking up one of them.

I snatch it from her, before the cap can be removed.

"It's nothing."

"But-"

"-Jo, leave it." Madge adds, noticing the look on my face.

"But-"

"-Nothing."

"And not even so much as a thanks." She spits, before stalking out of the room.

"Ignore her," Madge tells me, "I'm sure she didn't mean to pry."

I nod slightly, not quite meeting her gaze.

"Were they from your Dad?"

I nod again, closing the draw.

She places her hand on my upper arm.

"You look fantastic. Come on, it's almost time."

* * *

><p>The knock seems to rattle through the door and my entire frame simultaneously. As I rise from one of the old, faded chairs, my body shakes with each breath. Just as my hand touches the handle, I turn around. Madge is standing all but two feet behind me, peering around.<p>

"Leave." I tell her, pointing to the stairs.

"-But."

"Leave." I repeat.

"Fine." She says calmly, walking over to the stairs. "But you said nothing about the windows!"

I roll my eyes, before slowly opening the door.

A pair of bright blue eyes meet mine instantly. I see them widen slightly, as I open the door fully.

"Katniss?" He asks, his voice breaking the silence.

I nod feebly, unable to think of a worthy response.

He is dressed in similar clothing to what I saw him in last. A pair of dark jeans, a faded gray t-shirt and a black suit style jacket. His hair is in the same mop of blond curls, falling in every which way over his forehead.

"You look," He trails off, as if looking for the right word. "Beyond stunning."

I feel my cheeks heat up at his words.

"Thanks." I mumble, stepping out and locking the door behind me.

"No seriously, you do look beautiful."

And then he gives me a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet, with just the right touch of shyness, that unexpected warmth rushes through me.

I laugh silently.

"Thanks." I repeat, louder and more sincere than the previous time.

We stand awkwardly on the pathway for a moment, before Peeta clears his throat.

"Shall we?"

"Where are we going?"

"I'm not telling you."

"This isn't the whole, _'I won't tell you my__ favorite__ food, as you didn't tell me yours' _thing again, is it?"

"No, it's not." He says thoughtfully. "Although, you still haven't told me your favorite food."

"I don't even know your full name, what gives you the right to know my favorite food?"

"What do you think I'm going to do with that information?"

"I don't know." I say, a slight smile tugging on my lips. "Lure me into a cellar with it and keep me as a pet."

"It's Mellark and that's not really my style."

"What?"

"My full name is Peeta James Mellark."

I pull up short at his name, though I'm not quite sure when exactly we began walking.

"Is there a problem?"

For a split second, I thought I saw a flash of fear and embarrassment cloud in his eyes. Though it's gone so quick, I decide I imagined it.

"Mellark," I whisper to myself. "Mellark."

He raises an eyebrow at me.

"No, there isn't a problem." I tell him quietly. "It just sounds familiar, that's all."

"Are you sure?" He asks.

_There's that flash again._

"I'm sure."

I'm about to take a step forward, when I lose my footing. I stumble sideways, just as a hand catches my own.

"Are you okay?" He seems to be almost laughing.

"Yeah, fine." I say, keeping my face passive and as emotionless as possible.

I expect him to let go of my hand, though he keeps a gentle grip. Lose enough for me to let go if I desired and yet firm enough to keep a hold of. His hands are warm against my own and I find them rather comforting.

He glances over and catches me looking at him. He smiles and fully laces our fingers together. At this point, my mask has broken, and I smile in return.

We walk in silence for a block or two. I find myself focusing on the point in which our hands meet; the contact is unfamiliar and yet almost exhilarating.

We talk idly for a while, before our pace seems to slow as we near the old harbor I raise my eyebrows at him, though he just laughs.

"Down here." He tells me, pulling me down a small passageway.

I follow wordlessly.

As we round a cluster of near dead blueberry bushes, a spiraling staircase of crumbling stonework reveals itself. If it weren't for Peeta's sure footsteps, I wouldn't have noticed it.

"Where does it go?" I ask, as we reach the mouth of the stairwell.

"You'll see." I can practically hear his smile in his voice.

Again, I follow without further comment.

The stairs, unlike the exterior, are smooth and even to walk down. They tunnel down, away from the early evenings light. The low lying stone walls, infected with moss, have dandelions crawling in their mists.

Eventually, the path levels out again, just beneath a matching stone archway. We're now beneath the fisherman' pier. It curves round, bending away from the low lying sea. Down here, the rest of the world seems distant, muted by the wall and the sea air.

I steel a shy glance at Peeta, to find he is already looking at me. His gaze flits away almost immediately, though a slight smile sits on his face.

"We're here." He states, stopping in the middle of the cobbled path.

I look around, expecting to see something other than the sea.

I raise my eyebrow at him and he laughs. He gently tugs my hand, pulling me sideways. I follow, though slightly confused.

Ducking under another arch, this one considerably lower, we come into a semi clearing. Carved into the stonework is a large cave. I decide it was carved by the sea, as upon inspection there are random spurs of rock that jar out. It's quite wide, with a reasonable height. I can just about stand up in it, though Peeta has to duck his head upon entry. From my current spot, I can see the majority of the bruising sky; yellow, pink and purple streaked across the pale blue skin.

"How do you even know about this place?" I ask, my eyes flitting from one feature to the next.

"I've been coming here since I was younger. My Dad used to bring me here."

"It's..." I trail off, looking for the right word. "Very original"

His laugh echoes off the walls, bouncing back and forth.

"Original?"

"Not many people I know would bring a girl to a cave on a first date."

He laughs again.

"What? Is it more _Second Date_ material or something?"

I smile, pushing a strand of hair out of my face.

He shakes his head, for some untold reason, before clearing his throat.

I turn my attention back to the outside world. I watch the sea tickle the pebbles only meters away for a few moments, before I hear the rustling of fabric behind me.

I turn around to find a large picnic style blanket laid out across the cave floor.

"The floors cold." He tells me.

I nod, before moving over him.

I place myself down on the blanket awkwardly, not really knowing what to do or say, watching silently as Peeta does the same.

Once on the ground, he manually shifts his left leg, sighing as he does so.

"I think I deserve to know your favorite food now." He says, snapping me from my thoughts.

I laugh, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not really adventurous when it comes to food."

"Just tell me!"

"Um, okay. When I was younger, we often had these Cheese buns. I never knew where we got them from, as we weren't really in a position to really buy luxuries. But, they've always stuck in my head. So, I guess, cheese buns."

I cover my mouth quickly with my fingers. I'm not too sure why I brought my upbringing into the conversation, it just slipped out.

He smiles, showing a quick flash of white teeth.

"How come?"

"How come, what?"

"How come you couldn't afford luxuries?"

I look over at him. His previous smile has been replaced with a light frown.

"I don't know really, I guess my Parents' job didn't pay well."

"What do they do?"

"My mom is a nurse at Naldo Country General Hospital"

"And your Dad?"

"My Dad used to work in the Mines."

He sucks in a breath audibly.

"Used to?"

"He died when I was 11."

My voice sounds dead, even to my own ears, completely devoid of emotion.

"In the mines?"

I shake my head.

"There was an accident at our local gas station. He spared his life, to save a pregnant woman."

"Oh Katniss-" He begins.

"-It's not your fault." I say, giving him a quick, forced smile.

"I know but still, I'm sorry."

I nod silently, my face expressionless.

"I know what it's like to lose someone." He says quietly, looking ahead into the water.

"You do?" I ask, slightly shocked.

He nods.

I open my mouth, as if to say something, though I close it again a breath later.

"I was in a car accident just over a year ago. Both my Mom and my oldest brother, Rye, died on impact. Bannock, my other brother, died 3 days later."

If it weren't for grief's mark, written all over his face, or the void in his eyes, I'd think he were talking about someone else. His voice sounds so unlike his own, it's almost chilling.

"But you-"

"-Me and my Dad survived. I lost my lower left leg, though. But that's nothing in comparison. Not really."

It reaches the point, that just looking at him is too much. I imagine the heartbreak my family went though with my Dad. I think of all that grief put on my shoulders, before amplifying the pain my 3.

His gaze is still locked onto the horizon. Though his hands rest on the blanket, on either side of his frame. Slowly, I reach out and take the one closest to me. Lacing our fingers together, I mimic his position, stretching my legs out in front of me.

"So that's why you were on crutches, the day we met."

He nods.

"My dad, though physically fine, is crushed with guilt. He was driving, you see. Though it wasn't his fault, he blames himself."

"Where is he?"

"He checked himself into this support hostel."

"Support hostel?" I ask, having never heard of one.

"Yeah," he says. "It's like a communal home. Everyone there has lost someone they love and they help each other deal with it."

I groan inwardly - and it would seem Peeta is doing the same.

"I know, it's my idea of hell too."

Before I can say anything in response, he begins to laugh at my side. I look over, confused.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just that this got so depressing, so quickly."

I smile slightly.

"Okay, as I told you mine, what's your favorite food?"

He laughs again.

"I don't really have one."

"No okay, I will not except that."

"I'm a guy, we eat everything."

I scowl over at him.

He looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Have you ever had Lamb Stew?"

"No, why?"

"If I could choose a food, it would probably be that."

I nod, turning away to look outside again.

The sky has turned an ash blue. It is still bright outside, though the sun is no longer shining.

"Speaking of food," He says, opening a basket that materialized from nowhere. "Let's see how these compare."

He passes me a familiar looking baked good - a cheese bun.

I turn it over in my hands, looking back and forth between the item and Peeta.

"My family used to own a bakery."

I nod.

"I can't eat with you watching me." I laugh.

"Sorry."

Cautiously, I take a small bite.

I'm taken aback by the taste. It's everything I remember and yet, so much better at the same time.

"Wow." I say, upon swallowing.

"How do they compare?"

"They're good." I say, taking another bite.

He flashes a crooked grin, making me smile in return.

As I finish eating, other various items are laid out in front of me. Everything looks amazing and I guess that, at least 90% is freshly baked.

"Did you make all this?" I ask, curiosity taking the better of me.

"Most of it."

We sit a while in a comfortable silence, both of us eating - everything tastes amazing.

"What do you do for a living?"

I feel the sudden need for conversation.

"I used to be an architect. Now, I mainly paint."

"That's your job?!"

"Why do you sound so shocked?"

"It's just, painting sounds like a hobby..."

"Sometimes, your job can be your hobby."

"I'm a waitress. I that was anyone's hobby, I'd be concerned."

He laughs soundlessly.

"I don't disagree with you." He tells me. "But, if you could be anything in the world, what would you be?"

"You sound like a teacher."

"No, I'm serious." His voice is light, like a child begging for a new toy.

"I don't know, I've never really thought about it."

"Never?"

I shake my head.

"You're telling me, that even as a child, you never had a dream job?"

"That's different. When you're a child, you don't even think practically."

"But what if I don't want a practical answer?"

I groan, rolling my eyes.

"It's embarrassing, isn't it?" He asks, as though he already knows the answer.

"When I was younger, I always wanted to be a famous musician."

I expect to hear laughter, instead there is only silence.

I look up in confusion. I'm met with the most sincere looking smile I've seen in a long time.

"Really?" He asks, mocking unapparent in his voice.

"Yeah.." I admit.

"Can you play an instrument?"

"I have my Dad's old guitar, though I wouldn't say I can actually _play_ it."

"You should learn." He tells me. "If it's something you want to do."

I'm stumped for an answer. Instead, I just nod.

I watch silently as the remaining plates get moved aside and blanket straightened out. He then sits back down, momentarily, before lying flat on his back beside me.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Come on." He says, motioning for me to join him,

I shake my head.

"Oh just, shut up and trust me."

Rolling my eyes, I cave and join him on the floor.

"Why are we lying on the floor?"

From my position, I can see nearly all the sky. It looms above us, a near empty canvas. The sun has now officially set, the sky a black pit of nothingness. No stars are visible tonight, though.

"Just wait, and you'll see."

In the silence, our hands find each other again. It's a strange feeling - I'm all too aware of the contact and yet, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. As if I've been doing this for as long as I can remember.

A few moments later, a burst of light illuminates the sky, followed by a loud popping sound. I look up just in time to see the remaining embers fall in perfect unison.

Several more shoot up into the air: red, green, blue, pink.

"Fireworks." I breathe.

"Tonight is Church's Festival."

Each year, on July 21st, the local Church has a festival. It's symbolizes something about life and death, I've never really cared about it enough to pay much attention.

I watch as the sky continues to light up, before I can sense someone watching me.

I move my head, to look over at Peeta. His face is tilted down, staring at me intently. My face, only inches from his, seems to tingle with the closeness. I'm movies, this would be the part when they would kiss under the faux stars, the colors reflecting over their faces.

Our gaze gets so intense, I find myself feeling awkward once more. Clearing my throat, I shift my being so that I'm looking up at the fireworks once more. I remain like this for the rest of the show, though I Peeta's gaze on me never seems to falter.

Before too long, we're walking hand in hand, back up the carved steps, back into reality. We left the basket of food there, with the Blanket, as Peeta said he would collect it later. We talk lightly about nothing in particular until are back at my front door.

We stand facing each other for a moment, neither of us moving or speaking, though our hands are still intertwined.

"Katniss," He says, his voice sounding hoarse.

"Yeah?"

"Never mind. "

"What is it?"

"I was wondering if it would be alright if I kissed you.."

Then he gives me that smile again. It's so genuinely sweet, with that slight touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.

"Look up at the left most window." I tell him, ducking my head to the ground and resting my forehead against his chest.

Pressed up against the glass, is two eager faces, staring down at us. They look like small children, tapping on the glass in the animal enclosure.

I feel him laugh, as opposed to hearing it. It vibrates through his being, into my head and hand.

I look up to him, smiling sadly.

He nods once and I think he is about to let go of my hand. When, not for the first time this evening, I attempt to turn off my brain. I reach up, and kiss him on the cheek.

"Thank you, for everything." I say, as sincerely as I possibly can.

"You're welcome."

With nothing else said, I let go of his hand, and enter my own home.

Then for just a moment, I lean against the door, my heart hammering in my chest. A bird yearning for freedom.

* * *

><p><strong>Please tell me what you think - I still can't decide if I like it or not. D:<strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**Big shout out to CrazyGirlR.R****! Thank you for having so much faith in me:D **

* * *

><p><em>For a moment, I lean against the door, my heart hammering in my chest. A bird yearning for freedom.<em>

My fingers trace my lips, following the smile from one side to the other, like you might a rainbow or a shooting star. It feels, to me, just as rare; I find myself wishing to preserve the moment. And yet, I don't know why.

Sadly, that moment doesn't last too long, as after only a few short seconds, two pairs of feet come bounding down the stairs: loudly. I manage to force all emotion off my face and straighten my frame just in time for them to round the corner of their current race track.

"You didn't kiss him. How could you _not_ kiss him?" They almost yell, as I slip the heels of my numb feel.

I scowl in their direction.

"Ugh, you promised not to get involved."

"You didn't think we'd really keep that promise, did you Brainless?"

I catch Madge give her a hard look.

"We did promise her, Jo." She says thoughtfully. "But, why didn't you kiss him?"

I roll my eyes.

"Well, it definitely had nothing to do with the two of you." I reply, my voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

"We were ju-"

"-Relax Madge," Jo chides. "She just didn't want us watching her first kiss."

I glare at her intently, visualizing all the interesting ways I could wipe that smirk of her face.

"You can't blame her for that, Jo... But out of curiosity, when are you planning on kissing him?"

"We've been on one date-"

"-If it were me, he'd be in my bedroom right now and we'd be-"

"-But it's not you, it's me."

"It's her first kiss, it's a big deal!"

"I had mine when I was 12. My first pull was at 14. I don't see why she's being so nervous and frigid."

After a moment of silence, I glance towards Madge.

"Madge?"

She looks at me sadly, "Sorry, 13 and 15."

I sigh loudly, and aggressively push hair from out of my eyes.

"Brainless, Madge is now _engaged _to your, stunningly attractive, might I add, best friend, and you haven't even been in a relationship. Ever."

"Shut up, okay?"

"Ahh, I just love it when I hit a nerve." She says, in a faux sing-song voice. She sounds like Effie.

I scowl at Jo once more, turn, and walk up the stairs without another word. I catch the tail end of their conversation though, like a glimpse of wings of a Mockingjay in flight.

"Why is she always so...Katniss about stuff?" Johanna whispers, in an only semi-hushed voice.

"She just protects herself; I think it's kind of admirable." Madge says back.

"But, she does realize he'll get bored of waiting, right?"

"Maybe, maybe not... I mean, this seems different."

"What do you mean? She's still the same annoying, hot-headed person."

"Jo, this is Katniss Everdeen. And she wore make-up, for a boy." She says, as if it's obvious. "She hasn't worn it before now... I just hope she doesn't push him away."

"She just needs to grow a pair. Otherwise, she'll be left behind."

Madge must give her a confused look, for she continues her theory further.

"Gale proposed to you, Madge. You're getting married. You'll move in with him and start your life. Sure, I'll still be here, but we all know that we can only take so much of each other. And I'm not going to put my life on hold for her. I want to see the world, not sit and wait for her to grow up."

"That's a little harsh-"

"-Is it though?"

I push myself off the landing wall, not wanting to hear any more of their words. I move silently through the upper floor, making my way to the bathroom. I lock the door behind me and sink down against the cool wood. I hug my knees.

Johanna's words replay in my head:_ "I want to see the world, not sit and wait for her to grow up."_

I must have been blind in thinking that I would always have Jo and Madge and Gale. Sure, they're here for now. But they will all move on and start their life, while I'm stuck here in Maine, alone with Uncle Haymitch.

* * *

><p>One shower later, I'm lying on my bed. My makeup has been removed from my face, my hair pulled back into the usual braid, the dress traded for an old pair of loose sweats.<p>

The room, now so familiar to me, is comforting. The cracks in the ceiling and aging wallpaper are natural and calming, distracting me from my aching feet and beating heart. My hands sit on my stomach, rising and falling with each breath, as I count each and every imperfection from the mass above.

_204, 205, 206, 207._

The rhythm of the counting is soothing and helps to mute the thoughts that tumble around my head; thumping and rolling and crashing and breaking. But light knock on my bedroom door, forces me to stop counting but I do not sit up. I remain in my lying down position.

"Who is it?" I call, my voice almost completely void of emotion.

"Madge," she says. "Can we talk?"

"That depends," I reply, trying to keep my aging annoyance hidden. "What are we talking about?"

"Me and you... And Gale"

"Okay, come in."

The door opens, slowly, as she slips inside and closes it immediately after.

Madge shuffles from foot to foot, twirling her blond hair round on her finger. Watching her carefully, I sit up and wrap my arms around my knees. I nod to the foot of the bed for her to join me. After a moment's pause, she does. The bed groans in protest of the added weight, like an old woman complaining of her aches and pains.

We both ignore it.

"What's up?" I ask, hugging my knees tighter.

"Well, you know how Gale proposed the other night?"

"Yeah, I know."

I scowl slightly, remembering her conversation with Jo. It's true though. The night before last, at dinner, Gale got down on one knee, poured his heart out and proposed to her. Since that moment, she hasn't really shut up about it. All I ever seem to hear about now is Gale, Jo or Peeta.

She opens her mouth, as if to speak, only to close it again shortly after.

"I'm not good at this." She sighs.

"Madge, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," She rushes to assure me. "It's just; we want to get married in November. Which is only 4 months away and there is so much to do. Like the dress, cake, venue, photographer-"

"-You're rambling."

"Sorry. There's so much to do and I can't do it alone. Because let's face it, Gale is no help when it comes to this. If I'd let him, he'd get married in jeans and t-shirt-"

I cut her off with a quick chuckle, as that is beyond truthful. Gale has never been one for big celebrations, but Madge loves them. And what Husband would he be if he denied her or that one thing- a big wedding.

"You're not only Gale's oldest friend, but you're my best friend also. And I'd really like it if you'd be my maid of honor."

I feel my mouth fall open at her admission, though I don't care enough to close it.

"Wait, you're not serious, are you?"

"Yeah, of course I am."

"Have you just met me or something? You saw me today; I'm quite literally a beauty virgin. I am the world's worst female, ever-"

"-Oh shut up, Katniss. Will you _please_ be my maid of honor?"

I nod, wordlessly, and pull her towards me. An alien act on my part, as I've never been one for displays of affection. Despite this though, her arms wrap around me within seconds.

"Thank god. Can you imagine if I'd had to ask Jo?"

"You'd have to be naked all day, and dance around poles chanting some form of Voodoo."

A bark of a laugh sounds in my ear, signaling I'd caught her completely off guard.

"You laugh, but you know it's true." I say.

"Yeah, I know. That's the problem."

After a while, she releases me.

"I'm going to call Gale and tell him the good news."

"Okay."

A small smile escapes my lips. I know things won't be the same, but I'm going to try to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Feeling accomplished with my new goal, I take my phone from off the nightstand and quickly text Peeta.

_Katniss: Thank you for tonight, I had fun. :)_

I get a response almost immediately.

_Peeta: It was my pleasure. Hopefully we can do it again sometime? :)_

I reread the text over and over. Instead of putting up my slowly crumbling walls, I think about how much my life has changed over the past few months and how it will continue to change for a while longer. A warm feeling begins to spread through my stomach at the thought of Peeta looking down at me during the firework display, untold emotions in his eyes.

_Katniss: Yeah, I'd like that. :) _

_Peeta: You would? :D _

_Katniss: Yeah, why? :P_

_Peeta: I just wasn't expecting you to say that. :P  
>Are you free tomorrow evening?<em>

_Katniss: Someone's eager. : P  
>But, no I'm working the late shift. :( What about Friday?<em>

_Peeta: Yeah, I am. :)_

_Katniss: What shall we do?_

_Peeta: No__ no__ no. I think you should choose. :P_

_Katniss: Why? _

_Peeta: Because I did tonight. : P_

_Katniss: Yeah, you did. :/_

_Katniss: But okay, I will think of something. :) _

_Peeta: I do not appreciate the use of that smiley. : P_

_Peeta: Okay, good luck. ;)_

_Katniss: Oh shut up. :P_

_Peeta: Goodnight Katniss. :)_

Smiling, I put my phone back on the bedside table. But instead of rolling over in an attempt to find sleep, I reach out further and pull my Dad's old guitar onto my lap. Though slightly warn down, the walnut body and neck is familiar to touch. They sing my father's presence, though the instrument itself remains silent, waiting for further instructions.

Biting my lower lip, I take it in my arms, balancing the weight on my legs as taught. Cautiously, I strum over the 6 stings. Dust falls from them, like a miniature snow storm and just as I imagined they would be, they each sound desperately out of tune.

Instead of strumming again, I merely hold the instrument close to my chest, humming an old lullaby to myself. And that's how I fall asleep.

* * *

><p>I wake, breathless and panting to a loud set of ringing next to my ear.<p>

As I sit up, dizzy from transition into reality, the guitar falls to the floor with a loud _clang_; each of the strings shuddering against the floor. Blind with sleep, I fumble on my bedside table for the source of the noise.

Eventually, my hand reaches the cold surface of my phone. Unplugging it, I answer the device as I wipe the make-up residue from my eyes.

"HOW COULD YOU GO ON A DATE AND NOT TELL ME?" A voice yells down the phone.

"Hey Prim." Is all I say, as I swing my legs off my bed and pick up the guitar.

All seems undamaged, though one string has snapped.

"You need to tell me everything. And I mean EVERYTHING."

I sigh into the receiver, rolling my eyes.

My relationship with Prim has always been closer than most. Even when we were young children, we were the best of friends.

"I went on a date Prim, it's no big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal! Do you think he could be the-"

"-Woah, it's a little soon for that."

"How do you even know what I was going to say?"

"I just know you, okay?"

She pauses for a moment and I can hear the light crackle of the telephone wire being curled around her finger.

"Are you free to come over today?"

"Is something wrong?"

She sighs deeply.

"No Katniss. I haven't seen you in weeks, Mom is working almost constantly, as always, and Rue is on holiday. I am boorrrreeedd." She says, dragging out her last word like a small child would. She knows just what cards to play with me.

I feel a slight twinge of guilt.

I haven't seen Prim much recently; it seems the space between my visits double in size, despite all the promises I make.

"Yeah okay Little Duck. I'll be over in just over an hour."

"Okay Katniss!" I hear her spirits rise almost immediately.

Upon hanging up the phone, I place the guitar on the bed and go for a shower.

And not even 10 minutes later, I'm dressed and sat on the bed beside the guitar, as I pull my wet hair into the usual braid. I find myself focusing on the broken string and I stroke it lightly, like you would an injured bird.

Taking a deep breath, I pick it up by the neck and begin walking down the stairs and out of the door, careful not to jolt too much.

"Katniss, where are you going?" A sleepy voice calls from one of the upstairs windows.

"To see Prim."

"And the guitar?"

"I'm going to ask Haymitch to fix it."

"Good luck with that." Madge calls down. "Don't be late for work, okay?

"Am I ever?"

I turn around before I get a response, and head off down the familiar maze of streets.

As I turn onto my old estate, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, despite the humidity. I can't seem shake the feeling that someone's following me, though the road behind me is empty of movement. It remains as silent, still and secluded as ever.

Just as I turn back around and continue down the sidewalk, a dull gray car speeds down the avenue with the windows down, music blasting. It halts beside me and a boy, no older than 17, leans out the window.

His dirty-blond hair is stuck to his forehead with what looks like white goo: it's repulsive. He has a hard looking jaw, and black pitted eyes.

A small part of my mind can't help but compare him to Peeta. Sure, both are blond, tall and evidently strong. While Peeta seems sweet, kind and generally full of life; the stranger before me looks almost completely dead inside.

"Need a lift love?" He calls.

"No, I'm fine." I reply flatly, as I continue walking.

"Sure? That guitar looks awfully heavy for a girl like you."

"It's fine."

"Okay, suit yourself."

I expect him to drive off, tires squealing, though he continues to move idly alongside me.

"What do you want?" I snap, casting a hard look in his direction.

"Feisty, I like that in a girl..." He lets his voice drawl, and I shudder. "Any chance for some directions?"

I spy, on the bumper of his car, a Capitol trademark symbol. For people to work for the Capitol, or even have rights to one of their cars, must be either extremely intelligent or incredibly stupid. I imagine he's the latter and was purely hired to be used in the games they play with the innocent. Either way, he gives me the creeps.

"Where to?"

I refuse to even look at him again; I just stare ahead as I walk.

"The old harbor?"

I smile slightly, thinking of last night, watching the fireworks by the water. Though, when I feel his eyes on my behind, I wipe all emotion from my face and give him the most threatening look I can manage.

"It's on the other side of town, about a 5 minute drive."

"Have I gone the wrong way? Oh, what a shame."

None of his words sound sincere. In fact, they're close to sarcasm.

I don't offer a reply; I only speed up my walking speed.

"Sure I can't give you a ride?"

"I'm here, actually."

Technically, I'm not at my old childhood home, I'm stood on Haymitch's front lawn.

His mouth sets in a straight line, as he looks at the house behind me. It's easily the largest on the block, with it being over 3 stories high.

"Oh, that's good." His voice is flat again and it's actually starting to scare me a little.

"Yes it is. Bye then."

I turn around before he can reply, a habit I have found myself doing more and more lately, and walk up towards the front door.

The once bright corbel blue is peeling off in large chunks, splinters sticking out in every which way. Sighing, I thump on it loudly.

"Haymitch!" I yell, before hitting it again. "I know you're in there, open up!"

I hear the faintest sound of movement from within, followed by echoing grumblings of how he despises his godchildren.

The door opens up, revealing Haymitch in underwear and a stained t-shirt. All the fumes from his house hit me with a sudden blow: alcohol, moldy food and unwashed bodies. I cringe; though try to keep my face blank.

"Sweetheart!" He says in faux surprise. "What brings you to my humble home?"

"Can you fix this?"

I simply hold up the guitar.

"Your father's guitar? Take it to the music shop."

"No, I don't trust them."

"And yet you trust me?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Quite rightly so." He folds his arms, as he leans on the door frame. "So why are you asking me then, if you don't trust me?"

I take a deep breath, despite the stomach churning smell.

"Because you loved Dad once too."

It's a low blow, I know, but it's the only thing I know for sure that will work. And I was right, as it looks like all the wind has been knocked out of him.

"You're right, I did." He says both thoughtfully and resentfully. "Okay, I'll text you when I'm done."

"How long until it's fixed?"

"Tomorrow, I think. It obviously needs new strings, as well as a deep clean and the neck readjusting."

"Okay." I say, not really understanding the importance of anything he just said. "Thank you."

He burps in answer, taking the guitar from my hands and closing the door in my face.

Sighing, I turn around and continue down the familiar snaking streets.

As I walk up the path that does leads to my old house, I try to ignore the rotting window frames and the crumbling bricks that lie around the twisted door frame.

Instead of knocking, I simply let myself in.

"Prim?" I call, as I slip off an old pair of Madge's sneakers.

I hear her light footsteps bound down the staircase. Unlike with Madge and Jo's heavy footfalls, if it weren't for the creaking floorboards, you wouldn't know she was actually there. A family trait, I guess.

I spin round just in time for her to collide into me.

She wears a pair of my old jeans that have been cut at the knee, matched with an old blue t-shirt. The clothes hang awkwardly off her small frame, swallowing her up in the fabric.

Her fresh face smiles up at me, brightly. The blue of her shirt matches the color of her eyes, making them shine out of her pale completion. Despite her smile and bright clothing, her cheeks look hollow. It looks like she hasn't had a good meal in weeks.

"Finally." She says. "What does a person have to do to get her Sister to come and visit?"

"Prim," I say, completely ignoring her. "When was the last time you ate a full meal?"

A slight frown forms on her lips.

"I'm not sure, why?"

"It looks like it's been forever..."

"I told you on the phone that Mom has been working-"

"-I didn't think that meant she had completely abandoned you!"

"She hasn't abandoned me; she just hasn't had much time. You'd know this if you actually came home every once in a while."

"I'm sorry..." I say, looking down at my feet

"I know you are, but I'm tired of these broken promises." She says meekly, not looking me in the eyes. "I miss you a lot, you know. I get lonely in this house by myself."

"I miss you too, but you know that I can't live in this house anymore Prim."

"I know that." She protests. "Just, sometimes it feels like you've forgotten I exist."

I reach for her hand then. "

"That's not possible and you know it."

"Just because you know something isn't true, doesn't stop you from thinking it."

I sigh and smile weakly.

"How did you grow up so fast? What happened to the little girl whose shirt kept falling out of her skirt?"

"We both know the answer to that Katniss."

It's true. Pain, loss and the constant battle to survive has forced the two of us to grow up much faster than we should have.

I kiss the top of her head, before smoothing down her hair.

"Anyway," She says coolly. "We need to talk."

I groan as she grabs my hand and pulls me down the small hallway. I follow her footsteps and let her lead me into the pokey living room.

Upon collapsing on the old couch, she looks at me expectantly.

"What?"

"So, you went on a date..." She starts, waiting for me to continue.

"Yes, I did." I reply bluntly.

"With who?"

"How did you even find out about it?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"I called you last night and Jo answered your mobile. She said you were on this date, though refused to tell me anything else."

I laugh silently, shaking my head.

"One day, I will kill that woman."

"Probably." She agrees. "Now spill."

"It's hard to believe we're sisters sometimes-"

"-Stop avoiding the question."

I groan again.

"Fine, um remember Pe-"

She squeals.

"The stunningly attractive, blond haired, Supermarket Guy?" She says with a wink.

"Um yeah, I guess." I say, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. "Why?"

"Oh it's like a cringey, modern fairy tale."

I laugh awkwardly, pushing my bangs out of my eyes.

"Aw look, you're blushing."

"I am not." I protest.

"Oh please, you basically look like a tomato."

I splutter in response, not quite knowing quite how to reply.

"So, where was this date?"

"I don't want to say."

"Oh come on, I'm your sister! You have to tell me."

"Ugh, fine." I say. "He took me to this secret place his father showed him when he was younger, under the fishermen's pier and harbor. We watched the fireworks and just kind of talked."

I can tell that she's refraining from giggling or doing anything remotely Prim_-like, _as her hands cover her mouth as she shakes.

"So," she asks. "Did you kiss?"

"Why is everyone so obsessed with kissing?" I voice, unsure whether directly to Prim or just in general.

"Blame society." She says.

"Oh, I do!" I laugh, hitting her lightly with a cushion.

"But, I take that as a no?"

I nod.

"That's okay." She smiles. "It's not like you're going anywhere."

"And that's why you're my favorite." I say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her small ears.

"So you think you're going to see him again?"

"I'm seeing him tomorrow, actually."

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

"I have no idea... He said that it was my turn to choose."

"Why don't you take him to somewhere you like?"

"I don't go anywhere, Prim. I'm either working, at home or with you."

"That's not true. Why don't you take him to the Hob? You used to go there with Dad all the time."

The hob is a misleading name. It makes it sound like a restaurant, bar or even a market. Though it's neither of those options. The hob is small area of protected land, where Steve, the owner, set up an activity center.

Steve used to work with my Dad, until his wife became very sick and was unable to manage both work and aiding her. In her memory, he opened the center, as she always complained there was nothing for people to do in the area.

And though I went with my father, we never actually participated in the members activities. Instead, we'd go to the private archery pit and the bottom of the hill. Despite Steve's small collection in equipment, my father taught me how to shoot perfectly every single time.

It very quickly became my escape from school, bullies and general stress. When Dad died, I rarely went back, though I was invited many times.

"How do you remember that Prim?"

"I remember quite a lot from before Dad died, though not everything."

Instead of asking her to elaborate, I go back to her previous question.

"I don't know if I want to share that place though, Prim. It's private."

"I thought he shared a private place with you though." She says gently.

"He did, but-"

"-Obviously it's your choice, but doesn't he deserve the same?"

I'm silent for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Just because you bring Peeta there, doesn't take it away from Dad." She tells me, reading my mind. "In fact, I think Dad would love to know you took him there."

"Really? Why?"

"Because then he can be all protective."

I laugh as I tuck my bangs back behind my ear once more.

"Okay, I'll think about it. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"So, what now?"

"I'm hungry."

"I take it there isn't any food in the house?"

I frown as she shakes her head.

"Okay, we're going to the shops then."

* * *

><p>"Is this the supermarket you met Peeta in?" Prim asks thoughtfully, as she picks up basic household goods from the shelves beside her.<p>

"Yeah, I was getting you your billionth box of Fruit loops."

"Ah, you sound annoyed but without me, you would have never met him."

"I'd love you no matter what Prim." I say quietly, as we round the corner.

She smiles up at me.

"Oh and that reminds me. I need more fruit loops."

"Do they put drugs in those things or something?"

"Why do you think I like them so much?" She asks, with mock seriousness.

I roll my eyes at her.

Before I know it, we're at the cereal aisle and Prim is smiling at me knowingly.

"What?"

"Oh nothing, don't mind me." She says, as she hums something that sounds remotely like _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ from the Lion King.

"Oh shut up." I say, pushing her lightly. "Go and pay, will you? I need to make a phone call."

She takes the money from my open hand.

"Pee-ta?" She asks, dragging out the syllables.

"No, Steve."

She laughs, but leaves anyway.

I dial the familiar number and wait until it gets picked up on the fifth ring.

"Hello, Steve's Outdoor Adventure Center, aka the Hob. How may I help you?"

His voice is just how I remember from being a young girl. I let it swim in my ears for a minute.

"Hi Steve. This is, um, Katniss. Katniss Eve-"

"-Katniss Everdeen, how are you?"

I can't help but smile.

"I'm good thank you, and yourself?"

"I'm doing very well, thank you. How come you never come down here and see your sober uncle anymore?"

I laugh awkwardly. I wouldn't say he was family, but he's definitely a friend - a good one.

"That's actually what I'm calling about."

"Oh? What can I do for you?"

"Sorry it's such short notice, but I was wondering if I could use the Pit tomorrow. It's for me and a, uh, fri-"

"-Say no more. Done. It's yours as and when you want it."

"Are you sure? I can rearrange or something."

"No need. As you know, the Pit isn't open for the public, only for family friends."

"But-"

"Your Dad was one in a million, and I know he loved taking you here. You're welcome to use the Pit any time you want, just walk in. No one else is interested anyway."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad I could help."

"So, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Katniss, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"This friend, are they Male?"

I pause.

"Uh yeah, why?"

"Okay, that's all I needed to know."

He hangs up the phone before I can ask. I can only imagine what he is planning right now.

I look up to see that Prim is still paying, so I quickly text Peeta.

_Katniss: Tomorrow's sorted. Go me. :D_

_Peeta: Haha, well done. :D_

_Peeta: No pressure or anything, but last night was hard to beat. :P_

_Katniss: Is that a challenge?_

_Peeta: Bring it on._

**A/N: **

**Sorry for the late update, I had to travel with my Dad again, which meant me sacrificing my one true love (my bed) and the internet. But not all is bad, I have written a few chapters, though I'm editing the later 2. **

**Let me know what you think of this, please, either by review or pm? I'd love you forever. :D**


	5. Chapter 4

_02:47_

I lie on my bed in the darkness, my arm draped over my eyes, waiting for sleep to come. Despite my exhaustion, my brain refuses to turn off. Instead, it goes round and round in circles, like a dog chasing its tail; never tiring. Thoughts plague me, threatening to take sleep away forever.

Just when I think I'm done worrying about one thing, I get reminded of something else and the process starts all over again. I toss and turn on the bed, which shudders against the wall with each one of my movements. I should accept now, that I will not find sleep, but I'm too stubborn to move.

Instead, I simply let myself think.

Strangely enough, the first thing I thought of when I closed my eyes, was Peeta. At first, his mental presents was calming, until I started thinking.

I find myself worrying about what tomorrow brings. What if he doesn't like me as much as I think? Or, what if he doesn't like me at all? I might just be a bet between him and a friend, or maybe Haymitch paid him as a joke.

I shake my head slightly.

No. Haymitch is many things, though I doubt he would ever toy with peoples' emotions. As for Peeta, he doesn't seem the type of person to string a girl along for no reason. But how much do I really know him?

I try to recall everything I know about Peeta, from just a few meetings.

His favorite color is orange; not bright orange, but more muted, like sunset. He has the bluest eyes I have ever seen. His curly hair never seems to be tamed. His favorite meal is Beef Stew. He bakes. He lost most of his family in a car accident, along with his leg. And I trust him.

I'm astounded by how much I can actually remember, which scares me a little. It would seem that Peeta Mellark has left more of an impression on me then I thought.

Now I'll never get to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>03:09<em>

Eventually, my thought trails from one blond to another. I go from Peeta to young man in the Capitol licensed car. Everything about his voice, his words and even his looks seemed insincere. Though he didn't look like poodles you see dancing around the Presidents Palace, nothing seemed natural. His hair too blond, his eyes too black. Those are the two features I actually remember about him, and yet somehow cannot be forgotten.

Though I can't explain why, he scared me. And it had nothing to do with 'Stranger Danger', it was him.

* * *

><p><em>03:26<em>

Prim is my next thought. She looked extremely frail this morning, as if she might break or be swept away with each breath of the summer wind. I wish I could take away all of her pain, and give her back all the things she's had stripped away from her. Fill up her stomach, three times a day, 365 days a year. But, I cannot do that alone and Mom practically refuses to help.

I sigh.

Prim always tells me it isn't her fault that a part of all of us died when Dad did. But, _we _never just laid down and let is consume us. We fought, while she tried to sleep away the pain. They say she's better now, but working yourself into the ground isn't considered 'better' in my eyes. It's considered hiding from all the broken things she left in her path: me, Prim, the house and Dad.

I remove my arm from my eyes and sit up, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. The darkness is a little blinding at first, I look around, blinking fast, at where I know the walls are. In the crepuscule of the room, I fumble for the glass of water that's on my bedside table. Upon reaching it, I down the contents quickly, in a few large gulps.

I slowly sink back into the pillows, but I stare straight ahead at the wardrobe.

I can't help but think that everything is so messed up: I'm 19 and I'm acting like Prim's only parent; I'm 19 and I'm only just going on dates; I'm 19 and soon, I will be pretty much friendless.

I sigh again, letting my neck relax against the fabric. Closing my eyes, I try counting back from 100. Then 200. Then 500.

And sleep still won't come.

I pick up my phone from the bedside table, feeling completely fed up.

_Katniss: Is there any chance you're awake at 4:01 in the morning?_

_Peeta: Used to be a baker, I rise early. What's up?_

_Katniss: I'm not sure 4:01 counts as early, but sure. :P_

_Peeta: Oh really? What is your definition of early? :P_

_Katniss: Like, 5 or 6. :P_

_Peeta: I apologize for being 59 minutes ahead of schedule, Miss Everdeen. :P _

_Katniss: That's right, this 30 year old is not impressed. :P_

_Peeta: You're funnier then you give yourself credit for. :)  
>Now, what's up? Why are <em>you_ awake at 4:11 in the morning?_

_Katniss: I can't sleep. _

_Peeta: So you texted me? How cute. :P _

_Katniss: Shut it, Mellark. I simply thought to myself, who would be stupid enough to be awake at this time, and you were the first person I thought of. :P_

_Peeta: Hmm, still its 4:13 in the morning and you're thinking of me. I still think that's a point on my side, Everdeen._

_Katniss: Whatever you tell yourself Mellark, whatever gets you to sleep at night._

_Peeta: At least I sleep at night, Everdeen._

_Katniss: Shut up. _

_Peeta: So, what are you thinking about? :)_

_Katniss: What makes you think I'm thinking about stuff?_

_Peeta: I find that's often what keeps me awake at night. Just the inability to turn my brain off. :)_

_Katniss: Ah, okay. _

_Peeta: So? What are you thinking about? I mean, besides how stunningly attractive I am. ;)_

_Katniss: Wow, you're thinking highly of yourself there Mellark. :P _

_Peeta: Funny, you didn't deny it :P_

_Katniss: You're mean. I'm not sure I like you anymore._

_Peeta: I'm teasing. I thought you could use a laugh, that's all. :) _

_Katniss: I know, it's fine._

_Peeta: You should try sleeping now Katniss... :)_

_Katniss: I guess so... You still need to wait another 31 minutes to start baking though. :P_

_Peeta: Hmm, we'll see. _

_Katniss: Should I say 'Goodnight' or 'Good morning' now?_

_Peeta: Again, you're funny. :) Have a good sleep (?) Katniss :) _

_Katniss: Nice save :P Have fun waiting ;) _

_Peeta: Oh I will. _

Funnily enough, after that, I fall right asleep and don't wake up until mid morning.

* * *

><p>It only feels like a few moments ago that I was waking up, strangely alert after such little sleep, but nearly a whole day has passed.<p>

As I walk down the familiar sidewalk, I feel as though I am underwater: the sounds from the street are muffled, incoherent voices pass by me in waves. I cannot feel the concrete beneath my feet, nor the heat of the sun. Instead, the constant beat of my heart is all I feel, save for my flipping stomach. It marks every second, every step forward, every breath until my next encounter with Peeta.

I don't realize that I'm stood inside my living room until a pale hand is waved in front of my face.

"Earth to Katniss?" Her voice says softly, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

"Wait, what?" I ask, bewildered.

"You've been stood there, not moving, for about a minute." Madge tells me. "I take it you're nervous for tonight?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm a little nervous."

She smiles knowingly.

"Sure, sure."

She tucks one of her perfect blond waves behind her ear and reaches for my hand. Without a word, she leads me upstairs and pushes me into the bathroom. I shower, knowing that is what she intended for me to do, and when I emerge, I find that she has neatly folded some of her clothes and left them next to the door: I dress quickly.

I look at myself in the mirror and drink up my appearance. Madge has donated a pair of blue black skinny jeans, similar to those I wore only a few days ago. They shimmer ever so slightly in the bright bathroom light. They work well with the deep purple, silk, tank top. It hangs a little lose over my chest, but because the design is slightly pleated, the untrained eye wouldn't notice.

I walk into Madge's bedroom, the twin of mine, and sit on the edge of her bed.

"Those colors suit you." She says.

"Thank you."

"Turn around, I'll do you hair, if you'd like?"

I look up at her smiling face and nod, trying to mirror it.

"Don't be nervous. You made it through the last date just fine."

"Yeah, I know." I pause. "This is just all very new to me."

"Look, Katniss." Her skilled fingers work on my hair, pulling it around into some sort of braid. "You should just do what feels natural. I know that Jo and I were giving you a hard time, but this is about you. And you need to move at a pace you are comfortable with, with a person you are comfortable with. You have to go with what feels _right_, not what we or even yourself tells you."

I let her words sink in.

"Is that what you did? With Gale, I mean."

"Yeah, I mean ignoring everyone was difficult, but with him it was easy. I just focused on that and somehow we got to where we are today. I'm not at the point where I don't care what people think, I'm happy and that's all that matters."

"Okay, I'll try that."

"I hope you find someone, be it Peeta or someone else, who makes you as happy as Gale makes me." She tells me gently, securing the end of the braid with a black hair tie.

And for the first time, a small part of me craves for what they have.

"Yeah, I hope so too."

I lift my head and look across her small bedroom to the mirror. Her nimble fingers have fashioned a braid that starts just above my left ear, weaves its way down to the nape of my neck, before falling over my right shoulder; an elegant twist on my regular hairstyle.

"Do you want to wear any make up, or shall we leave it with just the hair?" She asks softly, watching me watch myself in the mirror.

"I don't think wearing makeup could hurt." I reply, with a small smile.

She laughs softly, shaking her head.

"What?" I ask, my cheeks flushing.

"Nothing."

"No, seriously Madge. What?"

"It's just, if this was all it took for you to start acting all girly, I would have set you up on a date ages ago."

I don't answer. I wish there was a reason why I was trying so hard with Peeta, but I cannot find one. It just kind of happened.

I close my eyes while she works on remaking my face. My internal clock still counting down, thumping away inside my chest. I lace my finger tips together and try to focus on the gentle strokes of the brush against my cheek, not the ticking bomb.

"Okay, you're done." She tells me, her voice breaking the heavy silence of the room up.

I shift myself to look in the mirror again.

My face is clear of any imperfections; my complexion is even and I have no bags under my eyes. My lips are perfectly shaped, my cupids-bow emphasized lightly, filled in with a warm pink color. And my eyelids are mainly bare, though a nude simmer has been applied to them.

The main feature of my face is the thin black line that travels from the inner corner of my eye, to the outer corner. At the end point, it tapers off into a light winged shape that matches the angle of my former small eyelashes. My eyelashes now look fuller and considerably longer, though no extra weight weighs my lids down.

It looks like a shadow is cast under my cheekbones, making them pop out a little more. A light dusting of pink powder has been dusted on them.

The overall look is a lot more laid back then with my previous makeup encounter, but it is arguably bolder. This, with the familiar hairstyle, makes me feel considerably more confident.

"Do you like it?" She asks eagerly.

"I do, I really like it." I say. "Madge, thank you so much."

"It's okay. Though you only have a few minutes until he'll be here, so you may want to finish getting ready."

I nod, rising from the bed.

"Don't wait up." I tell her.

"Katniss, wear the heels from the other night!" She calls from her spot on the bed.

I roll my eyes, smiling as I walk down the hallway and into my room. I go into my top draw and pick up the familiar box of children's lip-balm. Looking at them, I notice just how little is left. Most of them are now empty, worn down to the plastic lip. I fiddle with them for a few seconds, before selecting a clear-shimmery stick from the bunch. It smells like pineapples.

I carefully apply it to my lips, trying not to smudge any of Madge's hard work.

Just as I am putting the cap back on, I hear a gentle knock at the front door. Quickly, I grab the pair of black patent heels from beside my wardrobe, and run down the stairs. I slip them on my feet and open the door.

"Hi." I say quietly, reaching for my phone and keys of the old, wooden table.

"Hey." Peeta replies, matching my volume.

He looks me up and down, slowly, drinking up my appearance. His intense gaze makes a small shudder run down the length of my spine; though I can't identify the reason behind it, it brings a strong level of energy that works its glorious magic around my bloodstream. I hope he didn't see it.

"You look really beautiful tonight Katniss." He tells me, looking me straight in the eyes.

Blushing, I flip my bangs so that they cover my eyes, as I step forward and close the door behind me.

He gives me a warm, slightly crooked smile, which just makes me blush harder. Tilting his head fractionally, he lifts his left arm before pausing in mid air, conflicted. After a few seconds, he continues his actions. Reaching out, he tucks my bangs behind my left ear.

"Thank you." I say so quietly, I think for a moment he didn't hear me.

His hands hover next to my head for a moment, before dropping to his side.

I step slightly closer to him and take the hand he just let fall. He looks down at me, the most genuine smile on his face, and squeezes my hand slightly.

"Where are we going?" He asks, as we begin moving down the small path.

"You didn't tell me, I won't tell you." I reply, sticking my tongue out at him for good measure.

He chuckles softly, letting my guide him down familiar streets.

As we walk, I take brief glances at him from behind my hair. He is wearing pale jeans that are frayed slightly by his feet, on which he wears a gray pair of converse. His t-shirt is a nice fit. It's a navy blue color, and hugs his muscles modestly; it doesn't look like it is 2 sizes too small. His halo of curls is slightly more tame than normal, though small strands still flick over his forehead. I yearn to push them out of his crystal blue eyes.

"See something you like, Everdeen?" He laughs.

My glances obviously weren't as subtle as I thought. I blush again and bite my bottom lip. Unable to think of a witty response, I merely shake my head at him, laughing softly.

"Shut it, Mellark." I say after a while.

"So, where are we going today?" He asks.

"You didn't tell me until we got there, so I'm not going to tell you."

"Come on now, that's not fair."

"Yes it is."

"At least tell me how much further we're walking."

He drags out every syllable and pulls on my arm, like a child bordering on having a temper tantrum. Though he pulls a fraction too hard, making me stumble sideways into him.

He catches me easily.

"Stupid heels." I mumble, before looking up.

As I do, every fiber of my body freezes.

Our bodies are even closer than the night at the harbor. With him looking down and me looking up, our noses are millimeters away from each other. His hands remain on my hips, though I find myself unsure of where to put mine. Around his neck? Folded over my chest?

No, Madge told me what to felt right.

I place one of my hands one each of his biceps, feeling them tense up slightly under my touch.

"Sorry about that." He says gently. Both of us stand ready to move away from each other, but don't.

"Don't worry about it." I reply, matching is tone.

After a few long seconds, we slowly move apart and begin our slow stroll down the sidewalk, our fingers entwined. Our lighthearted conversation begins to flow like before and I find myself laughing more and more, something I'm not entirely used to doing.

Just before we round the corner to the setting of our current date, a car speeds down the road, similar to how the ill-witted young lad did only the day previous. My head whips around, my braid hitting Peeta in the shoulder, in order to get a glimpse of the car.

It's different.

But the song blasting out of its speakers, still audible, was the same. I shudder and feel my breathing pick up slightly. The more I breathe, the worse I feel. I start to feel lightheaded and my feet begin to stumble on the concrete.

"Katniss, are you okay?" Peeta asks, reaching out to catch me again should I need it.

My wide, somehow panicked gray eyes meet his concerned blue ones.

I want to snap _"Do I look okay?"_ But I don't.

Instead, I try to slow my breathing back down to its regular speed, and defuse the ticking bomb inside of me.

I nod slowly, not looking Peeta in the eyes.

I go to keep on walking down the road, but I still feel vaguely disorientated, so stumble once more. He catches me once again, his strong arms forcing me to stop moving.

"Hey..." He says softly, his voice quiet and gentle.

He turns me around, so that I am facing him. Keeping his right hand on my waist, he uses his left to tilt my chin upwards so that I'm looking him in the eyes. He seems to search mine for a moment, frowning as he does so.

I expect him to say something reassuring, but he doesn't. He just keeps watching me for a few moments, before gently pulling me towards him. The action is done so lightly, that I could easily stop what he was doing. I don't.

He holds me in is arms, not caring that we're still in the middle of the street. Instead of pushing him away, like I would normally, I wrap my arms around his middle. Burying my face in his chest, the scent of cinnamon and another that I cannot place fills my nostrils. It's extremely comforting.

"Are you okay?" He whispers, his breath tickling my bare neck.

I nod into his chest.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Promise me?"

"I promise."

I want to slap myself. It was just a car playing a song. With it being summer, there are more and more lunatics on the road, barely able to see over the steering wheel as they speed down the bumpy roads.

I can't place why I feel this way. I mean, it's not like I had a gun pointed to my head or anything. Maybe it was the Capitol bumper sticker, or the fact that he didn't seem to relent, but something in my gut tells me that it was _wrong. _

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and sigh into his strong chest. At this, I begin feel his arms rub the length of my spine. It's nice.

I pull away from him, and smile, embarrassed at my actions.

"Come on," I say, forcing myself to smile. "We're very nearly here."

He smiles back at me, making mine suddenly becoming more genuine.

I take his hand, and pull him around the corner and down the path. Everything about this place is familiar, it's my sanctuary. However, I notice the changes that have evolved over time. The walls, once green, are now white. Pained in a bright blue are the words, 'The Hob: Steve's Outdoor Adventure Center'.

You wouldn't expect it from the front, but behind the long rectangular building is masses of land. Forests, rivers, meadows: the works. It all seems out of place here, in the middle of an outdated town, but somehow the natural beauty has been sustained.

"What are you getting me into?" He laughs, looking around at the scenery.

I roll my eyes and smile sideways at him.

"Just come on." I say, pushing open the worn oak door and stepping inside, Peeta in tow.

I hear the familiar click of a revolver being pushed into place. Surely enough, I look up to see Steve pointing one of his large hunting guns at Peeta and I. Peeta's grip tightens on my hand, as he pulls me behind me, ready to shield me I think.

I smile at the gesture, before remembering he has no idea what is going on. He opens his mouth as if to say something, before closing it with a frown, as Steve starts laughing.

The inside of the office/lobby is decorated like a stereotypical lo cabin. There's a large woven rug in front of the fire, beside two velvet arm chairs. On the table is a menu for drinks and a large bowl of pine cones.

The walls are covered in wood panels, reindeer antlers hanging from one wall; his gun always rests upon them.

"Hi Katniss." Steve says, lowering the gun,

"Hi Steve." I say, smiling slightly

"Wait, you know him?" Peeta asks, looking between the two of us, confused.

"Oh yes." Steve says. "Katniss used to come here when she was younger, always getting into trouble. Sorry if I scared you."

Peeta stats to laugh, shaking his head, and loosening his grip on me.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you some embarrassing stories about Katniss?" Steve asks Peeta, holding out his hand for Peeta to shake. "I'm Steve, the owner."

Peeta shakes his hand, smiling politely. "Hi, I'm Peeta."

"Nice to meet you." Steve replies.

"I think I need those embarrassing stories." Peeta tells Steve, then looking at me he adds "For trauma reasons."

"One time," Steve beings. "She-"

"-That's enough." I say loudly, taking hold of one of Peeta's hands and pulling him towards the familiar door that leads to the private archery range: the pit.

"But-" He protests, laughing as he stumbles after me.

"-Bye Steve!" I call, cutting hum off once more.

The door shuts behind us and I hear Peeta gasp.

We stand looking at a woven path of wood chippings that trails down, parallel to army of trees. The trees are there to try to block dangerous shots from other users of the center: defending them.

Wild flowers are dotted here and there, splashes of red, blue and pink in the sea of green. The land is littered with wildlife. Birds sing from the tree tops, bees buzz from the flowers; it's so peaceful here.

"I think you've one upped the setting. This is far more beautiful than the harbor." Peeta tells me.

I watch his eyes trail from one thing to the next, hopping like bunnies, until they finally rest on me.

"Thanks." I say. "Shall we?"

We begin to walk down the semi-natural path, following its twist and turns until we reach the clearing.

In a small wooden shelter, there are 2 bows hand crafted bows and a range of arrows. As well as other necessaries, like arm guards. Across the expanse of freshly cut grass are the targets. Their blue, black and yellow colors yearn to be pierced with fresh shots.

"Please don't say you're going to try to shoot me too."

I laugh.

"Yeah, sorry about that..."

"I'm guessing it was some form of test."

"Yeah. He probably did it on behalf of my Dad."

"You miss him, don't you?" He asks, his voice solemn.

"Yeah, I do... What about you? Do you miss your family?"

"I miss my brothers. Though they were a pain in the as most of the time, they were always one of my best friends."

"And your Mom?"

"It's complicated..." He trails off.

I think about asking what he means, but there is something hidden behind his smile, something painful. I decide to leave it.

"So, you can shoot?" He asks, after a while of heavy silence.

"Yes." I say smiling. "My Dad taught me."

He looks me up and down, before sizing up the bows and the distance to the targets.

"Hmm, I don't think you can do it."

He is smiling, rocking backwards and forwards on his feet, his arms folded over his chest. He's challenging me.

I feel my streak of competitiveness burn within me, igniting my muscles. My fingers itch for the bow.

"Oh really? Care to bet?"

"Sure. What should the losers forfeit be?"

"Um." I'm stumped. "I guess the winner can choose afterwards?"

"Sounds good. You're on Everdeen."

Before turning around, I flash him the most innocent smile I can manage, and then pick up my favorite bow out of the two. Once more, I turn around and face the targets, pretending to fumble with my arm guard for a moment.

I nock an arrow and pull the string taut. I slow my breathing, trying to stop the rise and fall of my arms, and aim. After another second, I breathe out and let the arrow fly. It spins through the air before lodging itself in the center of the inner yellow circle.

I lower the bow and turn to look at Peeta.

His mouth is slightly open and his eyes are wide with shocked. But there is another expression on his face: pride.

"5 dollars says you can't do that another 2 times."

"You're on Mellark." I call, as I nock another arrow.

I repeat the same process again and both arrows land next to my first, in the center of the inner yellow circle.

"Pay up Mellark."

"I don't have any cash on me." He says, pretending to look in his pockets. "I'll have to give it to you another time."

"Oh really?" I say, smirking.

"Yeah really." His face now mirrors mine. "And besides, that gives me another reason to see you again."

"And what are the others?"

"Well the first being that I'd really like to."

He seems to realize his words after he says them, and his ears turn a deep shade of pink.

I smile at him, brushing my bangs out of my face.

"Easy there Mellark, I'm sure you'll decide you hate my by the end of the night." I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Somehow, I doubt it."

"Even if I kick your ass at archery?"

"I think we should have that tournament when I've been doing this as long as you."

"I'll give you an hour, take it or leave it." I stick my tongue out at him, switching the hand I gold my bow with.

"Oh, how charming."

"That's me."

There is a brief moment of silence between us. And in that time, I realize just how far apart we are. It probably isn't that much, but last time, we were never further them a meter away from each other.

"Come on then Mellark; let's teach you how to shoot."

He walks over slowly.

"Which hand do you write with?" I ask, when he reaches me.

"Why my right?"

"Because that will alter which hand you hold the bow with."

"Oh, okay."

I take his left hand in mine, making him stand adjacent to the target, as I move behind him.

"You need to hold the bow in your left hand, with your elbow slightly bent."

I help get his arm into the best position, before quickly securing the arm guard on the inside of his forearm.

"The arrow has to rest on the top of your knuckles, and attaches to the string between these two knots."

Again, I help him to place the arrow in the most comfortable position.

"Now, pull the string taut with your right arm, until your wrist is near your ear. Aim and let it fly."

He moves along with my words.

The arrow flies through the air, and lodges itself on the divide between the black and white circles.

He flashes me a bright smile. "That was fun."

"Nice shot." I say, smiling back at him. "Try it again."

He follows the same steps, though he holds his aim for a few seconds longer, before letting it fly. This time, it lands in the red circle.

"For the record," he tells me, as he fumbles slightly with yet another arrow. "Your hand is very distracting."

"My ha-" I pause. "Oh, sorry."

I didn't realize that my hand was still on his shoulder. Blushing hard, I remove it and awkwardly put it in my back pocket.

I watch him take his next shot. Red again.

"You didn't have to move it. It was nice."

I smile to myself.

_"Yeah, it was."_ I think.

* * *

><p>"Okay, hours up." I tell Peeta, after watching him take about a 200 shots.<p>

He has improved a lot, though he seems to be inconsistent. One minute he's on the gold, the next he's back on the white.

Even so, his face lit up when the tip of the arrow lodged itself in the center of the target. He looked like a child who finally got a puppy for Christmas.

"Okay." Peeta says softly.

He retrieves his most recent arrows from the target and places them back in the quiver that I left in the shelter. He secures the arm guard, the bow and the quiver back in their rightful places before joining me on the mound of nearby grass.

My feet were beginning to ache in my shoes, so I sat down while he was practicing.

"How come you put them away?" I ask him, when he takes one of my hands.

"I think we've already established you're better at this then me." He kisses my cheek then, which makes me blush. "And besides, this way I can actually talk to you."

"Easy tiger." I laugh, looking sideways at him. "Who says I want to talk to you?"

He mock glares, before pushing my shoulder, which makes me topple sideways onto the grass.

"Hey!" I exclaim, with mock hurt.

He sticks his tongue out at me, resting his weight on outstretched hands behind him.

I get myself into a crouch and lunch myself at him. He catches me, probably expecting it, as we begin to fight on the mound of grass. I roll against him, trying to pin him down, but he turns beneath me. I hit the ground instead, laughing.

He sits up then.

"You're not hurt, are you?" He asks quickly, his hand brushing my bare shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say, still laughing.

"Thank god." He whispers.

I force myself into a sitting position.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just thought for a moment that I really hurt you. I didn't mean for you to hit the ground, really I didn't."

"I know Peeta, its fine." I say. "It didn't even hurt."

He doesn't seem convinced, so I scoot closer to him, making our outstretched legs touch.

"Peeta, you didn't hurt me." I say softly, reaching for his hand.

Instead of intertwining our fingers, I pull his arm around my shoulders, before resting my head against it.

He looks down at me then and gives me such a sweet, genuine smile, that I feel that rush of warmth within me again. I find myself unable to pull my eyes off him.

He has a strong, chiseled jaw and soft cheekbones. I notice now that his eyelashes are very long and thick, despite their light color. I wonder how they don't get tangled together when he blinks. His eyes are kind and show untold stories of both pain and happiness. I find myself wanting to know those stories, wanting to know him.

Our faces are close together again, but instead of moving away like the other times; I'm rooted to the spot.

"Katniss?" He asks, his voice deep and rough, like he needs to clear his throat.

"Yes?" My voice sounds small to my own ears.

"I-" He cuts himself off. "Never mind."

He moves him face then, so he is looking out at the targets. And I find myself missing the closeness, the light smell of peppermint on his breath.

I turn to face him a little, placing my legs over the top of his. He looks back at me then, his eyes confused.

I lift my arms; my right I place around his neck, while my left rests on the side of his face, gently asking for him to look at me fully.

He obliges.

I smile at him nervously, unsure of quite how to continue. Thankfully, it turns out I don't have to. Peeta slowly lowers his head, our lips nearly touching, before he pauses. I think part of him expects me to turn away, but I couldn't even if I wanted to.

I close the distance between us and his lips meet mine. Everything inside me stirs slightly, my heart beat quickening with every second. We both linger, before slowly pulling apart, resting our foreheads together.

He exhales, chuckling as he does so, holding me tighter with his arm. I let my right hand fall slowly down his face, before joining it with my left behind his neck.

He scoops me up then, placing me on his lap, burying his head in my neck.

"I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you." He admits, his words getting lost against my skin.

"Since the moment you saw me, why?"

"I don't know. I just had a feeling about you."

I smile lightly at that, though struggle for a response that's suitable. What's strange is that it doesn't freak me out: I'm not scared or annoyed. I'm just Katniss.

The thought makes me smile further.

* * *

><p><em>I decided to put this at the end of the chapter, so that it wouldn't be considered SPOILERS for this specific chapter: <em>_**I'm just going to let you all know now, I'm making Katniss relatively OoC (Out of Character) and Peeta to some extent. I mentioned this in the description. I mean, I love Katniss, but if we waited for her all the time, there wouldn't be much of a story for this fanfiction. This isn't a 'Peeta and Katniss grow together after many many many many many chapters of angst' type of fanfiction. It's more about what they face individually and as a couple. So, if you haven't already guessed, yeah this will be moving quickly in comparison to others, but it will be full of lots of fluff and Everlark loveliness. :D**_

_** Don't get me wrong though, we're going to see A LOT of classic Katniss Everdeen in this story. Like, you're all going to hate me and be throwing books at my face. But, THIS IS FANFICTION. WE BREAK SOULS. IT'S WHAT WE DO. :D**_

_**I hope you enjoy this chapter. All the reviews have been incredible; I love you all so much. I'm only on chapter 4 and I have 40+ reviews? Like, WOAH. Please please please please keep them coming, and feel free to PM me, as I always reply. You're all fab and great and I love you. **_

_** -Ramble Over-**_

* * *

><p><em>The date continues next chapter. I haven't proof read this in as much detail as normal - sorry for any mistakes. <em>


	6. Chapter 5

We sit in the same huddled position we were an hour ago, talking about mindless things. Occasionally, one of us will cut the other off by gently brushing our lips against theirs.

"You take of pineapple." Peeta tells me, resting his forehead against mine.

"You taste of peppermint." I reply, biting my bottom lip.

He sighs lightly, sending a wave of sweet air into my face.

"I need to tell you something…"

I feel my stomach drop at his words. A thousand possible scenarios run through my mind in a matter of seconds: he could have a girlfriend; he could be moving away; he could have lied to me about something; maybe I am part of a bet or scheme?

I find myself moving away from him slightly; instead of being millimeters away, I'm inches.

"What?" I ask, my voice cracking ever so slightly.

"It's nothing against you Katniss, I promise!" He tries to recover. "I just feel; like you should know something."

"Okay." I say, tucking my bangs behind my ear. I try to relax back against his shoulder, though it feels more forced than before.

"It's just that I've never been here before."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never done the dating thing." He admits, looking down at the grass beneath us.

I look up at him, half shocked and half amused.

"Hey! It's not funny!" He complains, shoving my shoulder like before.

This time however, it is done lightly. I don't fall - in fact I barely move. The act is neither defensive nor lighthearted; it seems more like a cover up. The idea of a vulnerable Peeta causes a stirring deep in my chest.

"You're an idiot." I tell him.

We fall into a heavy, uncomfortable silence and I don't like it. I feel shameful, Peeta admitted something personal to me and I simply brushed it off.

I sigh to myself.

"Peeta?"

"Mhmm?"

I move my body closer to him again, so that I'm practically sat in his lap.

"What are you doing Kat-"

-I kiss him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I throw my weight against his frame. The force of my movements, along with the fact I caught him off guard, makes him fall backwards onto the emerald mass.

I linger against his lips, while his hands encircle my waist. After a few seconds, he lets his head fall back and relax into the ground, pilling away. Because of the way I fell, I lie mostly atop of him.

"I haven't been here before either Peeta, I thought that was obvious! I'm just shocked that you haven't been, because have you seen yourself?"

"Why would I need to see myself?" He asks with a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

Blushing, I flip my bangs into my eyes so that I can hide behind something.

"Um, you're not exactly unattractive." I mumble.

He laughs beneath me.

"I'll take that." He chuckles, running his hands up and down the length of my spine.

"Sorry if my reaction wasn't great." I say into his chest.

"It's fine. It's just that I really care what you think of me, that's all."

"Why?"

"You're not unattractive either."

"Forever the charmer, aren't you Mellark?"

"I am what you made me."

"You're a weirdo." I laugh.

"Katniss, can I ask you something?"

"I guess I'll allow it, just this one time." I tease, jabbing him in the ribs."

"Have you ever been kissed before?"

I freeze.

"You mean before you? Um, no I haven't… How'd you know?" I whisper.

"Hey," he says gently. "You couldn't tell Katniss. I was just wondering, as you said you'd never done the whole dating thing before."

"But-"

This time he is the one to cut me off with a quick kiss.

"I promise."

"Okay." I whisper. "Well, have you?"

"Have I, what?"

"Kissed someone before?"

"I haven't kissed anyone, though someone has kissed me."

"What's the difference?"

"It's a long story."

"I have time." I try to smile.

For some reason, the thought of someone kissing Peeta makes my blood run faster. Fire streams through my veins, though I try my best to conceal it.

"Are you sure?" He asks, looking at me skeptically.

"Yeah, it sounds like one hell of a story."

He laughs at this.

"Okay, well my brother's fiancé kissed me a few years ago-"

-"wait what? That's insane." I half laugh, half spit.

"No, it's not like it sounds." He corrects. "One thing you should know for this story is that my brothers and I, and my Dad I guess, all look quite similar. Sure there are differences, but we all have the same blue eyes, curly blond hair and similar builds."

The fact that Peeta still speaks of them as if they are here makes my heart melt, though breaks it at the same time. I nod along with his words, trying not to imagine older versions of Peeta Mellark.

"One time Delly, Rye's fiancé, went out with some of her friends and got really drunk, right? So she stumbled through the door of the bakery, making a racket, in the early hours of the morning. So I went out to see who it was and-"

"-She kissed you?

"Yeah, she thought I was Rye."

"Does he know?"

"Yeah, he happened to walk out of the kitchen just as it happened. Before I had time to push her away, he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and punched me in the face several times."

"Surely that's not fair?"

"Brothers are never fair Katniss, though you could say that karma got him back so I am fine with it." He seems to laugh at the memory.

"How come?"

"Delly remembered everything the next day, including how Rye had punched me, so knocked the living daylights out of him-"

"Go Delly!"

"-How he went on to have a child is beyond me."

Peeta's face is a cross between a smirk and a grimace.

"Wait… So Rye has a child?"

"Yeah he does… Delly was 3 months pregnant when the accident happened. He never got to meet his son…"

"It's a boy?"

I sit up then, supporting my weight with one out stretched arm. Peeta shortly followed suit.

"His name is Dylan and he is the spitting image of Rye."

I smile then.

"Did Delly and Rye ever get married or…" I let my question trail off into the still air.

"No, they didn't. Though technically Delly is a Mellark, and so is Dylan."

"Please don't tell me Rye was engaged to a cousin or something."

Peeta erupts into surprise laughter, which rumbles from deep within his chest.

"No, Delly is not a blood relative to my family. Bannock actually checked to try to wind Rye up, but that is another story."

I smile to myself, touched by the number of stories Peeta has of his brothers.

"Then how is she a Mellark?"

"After the funeral, Delly came and found me and my Dad. She told us how Rye was the love of her life and if it would be okay if she took our name anyway, even though she never got to marry Rye. We agreed, saying she was already part of the family."

"Dylan Mellark, I like that."

Peeta smiles down at me.

"Yeah, I do too."

"But what will you do if she ever wants to remarry?"

"We won't hold her to the name of Mellark, though I'm not sure if she will."

"I can understand that."

"So I have never kissed anyone, though someone has kissed me."

"Yes, your brother's fiancé."

"Yes, exactly."

We both laugh for a moment, before falling into silence.

The evening's sun is low in the sky, though still lights up the surroundings well enough. I quickly reach into my pocket and pull out my phone to check the time. It's 7:30pm.

"Is that your sister?" Peeta asks me.

I look up at him, completely unaware that he was watching from above me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy! I just looked down and your phone was there…"

"It's fine; it's just a phone Peeta." I tell him. "And yes, that is Prim."

"I can see why she was named Primrose."

I rest my head in the crook of his neck.

"Yeah, thankfully she looks nothing like me."

"Why thankfully?" Peeta asks, seemingly dumbfounded.

"Well look at her, she is gorgeous!"

"But so are you Katniss." He whispers into my ear, as he pulls my closer to him.

"I'm really not, but thank you for saying so Peeta."

"Well I know you are and that is all that matters."

I roll my eyes, though a smile tugs on the corners of my mouth.

"Well you're stupid and blind and… Stupid."

"Not that I have much experience, but I don't think you're meant to insult people on dates."

I laugh then.

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"No no, it's fine." He whimpers with mock hurt dripping from his words.

I lift my head up and kiss him gently, one of my hands placed on the back of his neck, fiddling with the curls there.

"Okay. I'm all better now." He whispers.

Before I can respond, his lips are back against mine. And instead of pulling away like normal, they stay there. After a moment, his tongue brushes against my bottom lip. I gasp into the kiss.

He pulls away then, shaking his head lightly.

"Sorry, that was probably out-"

I gently push his head to look at me again, before closing the distance. I copy his actions by brushing my tongue over his lower lip and he gently slips his own into mine. I'm unsure of what I'm doing, so I just copy his actions, exploring his mouth.

After a minute or so of this, Peeta scoops my off the ground and places me on his lap. His hands sit on my waist and I wrap both my mine around his neck. I pull away from him slightly and flash him a wide smile. His face mirrors mine.

Without a word, we go back to kissing.

* * *

><p>My stomach grumbles suddenly, cutting through the summer's air like a knife. The sound makes Peeta laugh into my mouth, which in turn makes me do the same.<p>

"Aw, is my little Katniss hungry?" He teases, before kissing my nose gently.

"Your Katniss?" I ask, with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

He blushes, so much so that red disappears under his shirt.

"Oh I, uh-"

I kiss him.

"Your Katniss, it is."

"Wait, really?" He looks like a child on Christmas morning again.

"Sure, I mean how many Katniss' are there in the world?"

He rolls his eyes and I laugh.

"Come on then, let's go and get you some food." He says, climbing to his feet.

I'm just about to push myself off the ground when Peeta offers me his hand.

"Thank you." I say, brushing down my jeans.

"What would you like to eat?"

"They don't really sell food here, do you know anywhere nearby?"

He thinks for a moment.

"Actually, I do. Shall we go there, my treat?"

"I thought you said you had no money on you?" I laugh, shoving his arm.

"Yeah, well I lied."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I wanted an excuse to see you again really."

"You're mean."

I fake scowl at him, folding my arms over my chest for good measure.

"You're cute when you pretend to be mad at me." He comments, kissing my nose again.

"I hate you."

"Sure you do, Sweetheart."

"You are not allowed to call me that again, ever."

"Oh right, Haymitch calls you that doesn't he?"

"Indeed he does."

"So Sweetheart is off the table?"

"Permanently: until the end of time."

"I'm pretty sure that is the definition of permanently."

"Shut up, Mellark."

"You'll have to make me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Bring it on Everdeen."

Peeta starts to talk rubbish in a reasonably loud voice, about how he is better at archery then me, while walking backwards. I roll my eyes and listen to him for a few seconds, though a smile plays on my lips. I look at him pointedly for a moment, earning a smug look.

I run the short distance between us and jump at him. My arms loop around his neck and my legs around his waist; he catches me easily. I then kiss him deeply. His cries of challenge and victory turn to one of surprise.

I kiss him for a few seconds, before jumping down and walking towards the exit.

"I think I won there Mellark." I call back.

"Feel free to do that again whenever you want to."

"Oh really, why is that?"

"No reason." He tells me, draping an arm over my shoulder and kissing my temple.

We walk down the familiar path back to the main cabin-reception in silence, both of us just taking in the beauty of the surroundings. The moon is just appearing in the sky, a white outline on the baby blue canvas, almost like a scar.

I let myself melt into his frame as we walk through the trees. He pulls me closer and I lace my fingers with the ones that lie just above my left collarbone. When we reach the reception cabin, I push the door open easily. We walk through.

"Steve?" I call.

Clattering sounds from the side room, along with several loud shattering sounds.

"Steve, are you okay?"

"Fine, I'm just fine." He replies, walking in.

He brushes himself down, casting a shower of dust onto the rug.

"Do you need any help?" Peeta asks from behind me.

I smile inwardly.

"No, you're alright. You two should go and enjoy yourself."

I squeeze Peeta's fingers as a silent thank you.

"What do I owe you?"

"You don't owe me anything." Steve says, sounding confused.

"For using the Pit, I must owe you something."

"Katniss, you can use it whenever you want, free of charge – though I have a few conditions."

"What are the conditions?" I ask warily.

"You can't be a stranger; you have to actually come over from time to time. Haymitch won't tell me anything, I have no idea how you or Prim are doing. And secondly, don't throw it away."

"Throw what away?"

Now I'm confused.

"Oh you know," He smiles. "Just don't throw it away."

I glance back at Peeta, who looks just as baffled as I feel.

"Great! Well I will, uh, keep that in mind. Thanks Steve."

"Anytime, Kitty Kat."

I feel Peeta laugh behind me, though he makes no sound. I scowl over at Steve and practically drag Peeta from the building.

"Kitty Kat?" He asks, finally letting the sound of uncontrollable laughter fill the air.

"Shut up." I tell him, shoving him away from me.

"Aw, I'm sorry Kitty Kat. Please don't hiss at me." He teases.

I jab him in the ribs with my elbow, but it only makes him laugh harder.

"Will you stop laughing?"

"I don't think," He has to stop for breath. "I can."

"You're going to be sitting alone if you carry on." I tell him, only half joking.

After a few more seconds, he gains composure.

"Where did that nickname come from?"

I sign deeply.

"When I first went down there with my Dad, I was wearing a t-shirt with a cat on it. I was young enough that I hadn't started calling things by their proper name yet, so when Steve asked me what was on my t-shirt, I said a kitty. He asked me for my name, and I said it was Katniss. Since then, he has called me Kitty Kat."

"Why am I having trouble imagining you as a sweet, innocent child?"

"Because I can kick your butt at archery Mellark, that's why."

"Ah, I see."

He smirks at me.

"Didn't you have a stupid nickname when you were younger?"

"Sure, but I'm not going to tell it to you."

"I hate you."

"Sure you do, sure."

"I do."

"Sorry." He whispers in my ear.

"Don't be." I whisper back.

We walk in silence, and I let him guide me back through the streets. After following the main road through the main estate, we turn down a small road. If it weren't for Peeta's sure footsteps, I doubt I would have noticed it.

A short way down the path is a little hut. Tables are dotted around it in circles, each dressed with a checked cloth and wicker place mats. It seems like a strange place to put a restaurant, though surprisingly nearly every table is filled. Wonderful aromas fill the air, along with the sound of families laughing.

"We can either eat sat here, or take the food away."

I look around the surrounding area. However pretty the setting is, I feel like I'm being watched and judged, though I do not know a single person here besides Peeta. I remember what Madge said earlier, about how hard she found it to ignore everyone else and I understand what she meant.

My eyes catch a large stone wall further down the road. I can't see what lies behind it, though the wall itself looks high enough so that, if sat on, you could see the old harbor.

"How about we take the food and go and sit on the wall?" I suggest, pointing to the wall.

"Okay, sounds great!"

"What food do they even do here?" I ask, unable to see a menu.

"You wait here, I'll go order." He tells me.

"What are you going to get?"

"It's a surprise."

"I want to pay."

"I'm not letting you pay."

"You are to."

"I am willing to fight you right here, right now, in front of everyone." He challenges, motioning to all the full tables around us.

I scowl at him, though let him go and order for us.

I watch him as he goes. He still has a slight limp, though I imagine that will be a permanent thing. His hands stay in his pockets while he walks, making his biceps pop. I notice that the curls at the nape of his neck are messy, probably from where I was playing with them before. The thought makes me smile.

Before too long he is back beside me, a plastic bag in his hand.

Without a word, I take his free hand and we make our way towards the wall. Our entertained fingers swing slightly between our bodies, occasionally brushing the material of our clothing.

"Do you want a hand?" Peeta asks me when we reach the wall.

I look from the wall back at him and smile.

"No thank you, I'll be fine."

Though I can't explain why, a part of me needs to do this without Peeta's help. I have seen a side of myself that I never have before tonight and, as though to check she still exists, the old Katniss wants needs to so this.

"Okay." Peeta smiles back at me.

The wall is a few feet taller than me, so it's not like I can easily jump up. I slip of my heeled shoes and place them at the foot of the wall, before scanning it for some grooves. I find some a few meters down and use them to hoist myself up. Later, they act as foot holes, until I am high enough to throw my leg over the top of the wall.

"Let me guess, you're good at climbing too?"

"We had a large oak tree in my back garden, I used to climb to the very top and watch the sunrise."

I reach down to take the food from Peeta, allowing him to climb the wall himself. He sits down next to me, our legs dangling over the edge.

On the other side of the wall is what looks like a scrap yard. At least a dozen rusty cars are discarded here and there, along with mounds of metal and plastic.

"Did you know that was there?" He asks me, nodding to the floor.

"Nope, but you can see the water in the distance."

The sun is just setting behind us, casting shadows on the water. We aren't all that far away from the rest of the world, the roars of laughter from the families are still audible, but seem muted.

I'm confused as to why I find Peeta so distracting, and why I am so comfortable around him. I'm confused as to why everything else melts away.

"_I'm just confused." _I tell myself simply._ "But I like it."_

I turn my attention back to Peeta, only to find him staring at me. He doesn't look away once I catch him, instead he just smiles sweetly.

"What?" I laugh after a few seconds.

He shakes his head slightly, as though to clear his thoughts, before swinging one of his legs back over the wall. By straddling the wall, Peeta now faces me. I copy his actions so that a foot dangles either side.

My stomach rumbles into the air.

Chuckling to himself, Peeta reaches past me and grabs the bag of food. Opening it, he places several containers in the space between us.

"What did you buy?" I ask him, eyeing the containers.

They contain things like rice and bread rolls, though one has a rich brown substance.

"You had never tried Lamb Stew and, in my opinion, that is a crime."

"What kind of sentence am I looking at then? 5 years?" I joke.

He smiles.

"I'm not sure, maybe longer."

"Is there no way I can shorten this sentence?"

"I don't know, I'll have to think about it."

We fall into silence as Peeta organizes the food. He spoons the rich stew onto mounds of rice, adding what I can only assume are spices to the top. He then hands me the larger of the two containers of food, along with a bottle of water and a plastic fork.

I raise my eyebrows at him.

"What?" He laughs.

"Why do I get the bigger one?"

"You get the bigger one because you are the hungry one."

"Are you trying to get me fat?" I laugh.

"You could eat constantly for a year and I doubt you would ever get fat." He tells me. "Besides, you're too skinny anyway."

"So you are trying to get me fat?"

"No, I'm not." He says.

"You are too." I whisper quietly with a smirk.

"Shut up and eat your stew."

I laugh silently before taking a forkful of food. It tastes amazing. The rice is fluffy and light, coated in the rich source from the stew. I can taste plumb in the mix of complementary flavors, along with what I think is ginger.

"Oh my god."

"It's good, right?" He half asks, half tells.

I nod taking another mouthful, then another and then another.

"Don't eat it too quickly though," he warns. "It's so rich, you can sometimes feel sick afterwards."

I try to slow down, though I still shovel one forkful after the next, barely taking the time to breathe. Not surprisingly, I finish first. I put my now empty containers back in the plastic bag and swing my leg back around, so that I can see the harbor again. I take the bottle of water from beside me and sip at it until Peeta has finished too.

Once he has, he copies my motions of tidying away the plastic containers, but swings his legs the other way so that he faces the hut. I look at him confused, earning a smile. He shuffles along the wall until our legs are touching; I can see him easier this way as neither of us has to turn.

"What would you like to do?" I ask him.

"I can think of two things."

"And they are?" I ask again.

"One, take your hair out of the braid."

"Okay, though I don't see why."

"I like your hair." He tells me sweetly.

I smile at him and reach up to take the elastic out of my hair. He catches my hand in midair and gently shakes his head.

"I'll do it." He whispers.

His low tone makes a shudder rip through my spine, like electricity through a circuit.

He gently takes my braid in his hands, untwisting the elastic. Moving his fingers slowly, he frees the tie and unravels the twists of hair. When his hands reach the nape of my neck, he begins to drag them down from my scalp to the broken ends.

"Your hair is so long."

"Yeah, I don't like getting it cut."

He tucks some hair behind my ear.

"Why don't you like cutting it?"

"My Dad used to love my hair." I tell him. "He'd get excited when it grew some more. When I had to get it cut, I could tell he missed it. He used to play with my hair and braid it for me before I went to bed each night. After he died, cutting it felt wrong."

Peeta leans down and kisses me cheek.

"It suits you like that so you don't need to cut it."

I smile into the increasing darkness.

"What was the second thing you wanted to do?" I ask him, leaning my head into his hand slightly.

Our faces are close together again.

Instead of replying he closes the distance between us, by placing his lips against my own. I sigh gently into the kiss, my hands finding his neck. Pulling him closer to me, it escalates again.

After a few moments, I pull away from him. His lips are red and puffy, his cheeks pink against his pale skin; the sight makes me smile.

"Sorry, but I don't think kissing on a wall is the safest place." I laugh, and I put my head on his shoulder.

"You're probably right."

Speakers start to sing behind us, earning cheers from the tables at the hut. I do not know the song but apparently everyone else does. I twist my head and watch as people rise from their seats and begin to dance. Couples, families, even strangers are coming together.

"Have you ever seen this before?" I ask Peeta.

"No, I rarely come here." He tells me with a soft smile on his face.

I'm surprised as to how many smiles Peeta actually has, each seems to have their own meaning, though I am yet to figure them all out.

"One second." I say, and jump down the wall on the side we climbed.

"What are you doing?" He laughs.

I grab my shoes and pass them to Peeta, before quickly climbing back up the wall.

"Why do you need your shoes?"

"I want to explore." I reply.

"Explore where?"

Instead of responding, I jump down the other side of the wall. I land in the scrap yard.

"Are you coming?" I call, sticking my tongue out.

He laughs at me, but jumps down the wall anyway, my shoes in his hands. I relieve him from carrying them by slipping them on my feet.

"Why do you want to explore down here?"

"_Why do I want to explore down here?" _I ask myself.

The first thing that comes to mind is the privacy. Nobody else is around, strangers or friends.

"Well," I say, flashing the flirtiest smile I can manage. "Kissing on the wall wasn't safe, so."

He laughs, making me feel subconscious. I blush deeply and avert my eyes from his. Catching my hand, he pulls me to him gently.

"Now that is a side of you I haven't seen before." His voice is low, deep and rough.

"That's because I'm not very good at it." I admit, looking down at my toes.

"You're a lot better than you think." He tells me, kissing me softly.

Part of me was expecting something passionate, though another part is thankful that it wasn't. I'm not stupid, I am not flirty or sexy; I cannot wrap boys around my little finger like Jo can.

"Come on." Peeta says, cutting me from my thoughts.

"Come where?"

"Exploring."

The music is still audible from behind the wall, the song changing every few minutes. Occasionally cheers sound too, along with applause. The sky is dark now, the air cool and crisp. There isn't much light down here, only what floods over the wall.

"Do you know anything about stars?" Peeta asks me, when he notices me staring at the sky.

"Not really, aside from what you have to learn in school."

"Would you like to know?"

"Sure." I smile.

I let Peeta lead me around the site of junk, following him obediently. After a few minutes of wondering, he seems to find what he is looking for.

He jumps onto the bonnet of an old red pickup truck and holds his hand out to help me follow. I raise my eyebrows at him, shaking my head at the same time.

"Why are we climbing a truck?"

"Why won't you climb the truck?" He counteracts.

"Why do you want me to climb a truck?"

"Oh, just shut up and trust me." He laughs, as he helps me up.

"Okay, we're on a truck. Now what are we doing?"

"You're learning about Mythology."

"Great, I'm dating a lecturer." I deadpan, rolling my eyes with a smile.

"Oh, so we're dating?" Peeta asks me, pulling me flush against him.

"Well, considering we are going on dates, I would say so." I whisper.

"What does that mean for us?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighs.

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

"Peeta, tell me."

"I'm just wondering what that makes us, that's all."

His eyes search mine for something, though he mustn't find what he was looking for, as he looks away. The action, though not intentional, makes my heart hurt.

"Forget it Katniss, it was nothing."

"I don't think it was nothing." I whisper.

He tries to smile at me, though it doesn't reach his eyes like normal.

"Peeta, look at me."

He looks me in the eyes, a feeble smile tugging at his lips. I reach up and kiss him gently, brushing my lips over his.

"Were you asking me if we were a couple?"

"I was asking if you'd be mine." He mumbles, his eyes flitting back to his shoes.

Voices start screaming in my head, warning and blaring. I silence them the best I can.

"I think," I whisper. "I'll allow it."

"Who are you and what have you done with Katniss Everdeen?"

"Look," I sigh. "You're sweet and I really like spending time with you. It's probably too early for anything big and dramatic, but you'll probably end up being my boyfriend anyway, so... But I'm still Katniss, and I will still freak out sometimes. I'll do stupid stuff and get insecure, but so far I've been okay-"

"-Stop." He whispers.

He kisses me gently, his fingers brushing under my eyes.

"I'm happy with that. In fact, I'm more than happy with that Katniss. And we will just do what you want to do all the way along, I'm happy to go as slow as you want to go."

I put my head on his chest ad his arms encircle my waist.

"Thank you Peeta."

"Don't mention it."

We stand there for a while in the darkness, the music filling the air. It would seem that with each song, they're only cranking up the volume.

Before long Peeta and I are swaying to the music, laughing as we do so. As the songs change, so does our style of dancing. What started as ironically swaying to the music on the bonnet of a pickup truck, went to ironic dancing.

I fall into a fit of giggles when Peeta takes my hand and spins me around. Our movements are slow and goofy, which only makes it more entertaining.

_Just call me angel of the morning angel_

_Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby_

_Just call me angel of the morning angel_

_Then slowly turn away, I won't beg you to stay with me_

_Through the tears of the day, of the years, baby_

When the song ends, we're both breathless from laughing so hard. We walk over the body of the car until we reach the back of it. The space is large enough for us to lie down in, so we do.

It's dirty and dusty but neither of us mind. We lie side my side, like we did on our first date, our fingers intertwined.

"Peeta?" I ask.

"Mhmm?"

"Tell me about the stars."

He looks over at me.

"Are you sure?"

"I'd really like to know."

"Do you see the stars that look like a pan, just there?" He asks, pointing up at the sky.

Following his finger upwards, I nod.

"It's referred to as the little bear."

"But it looks like a pan, not a bear."

"I know." He laughs. "The story is that Zeus, the father of all Greek Gods, became interested in a maiden called Kallisto. Over time, he spent more and more time with her. This made his wife, Hera, extremely jealous.

"It reached the point where Hera became angry, and used her magical powers to turn Kallisto into a clumsy bear. Kallisto was forced to wonder the forest in her unnatural form, which made Zeus very upset though he couldn't dishonor his wife.

"A few years later, Kallisto's son, Arktos, was hunting in the forest. As the world thought his mother was dead, he had very little. When he was out looking for food, he spotted this big bear and was about to shoot it. But what he didn't realize was that the bear was his mother.

"Zeus appeared instantly, for he had been monitoring the boy for some time, and turned him into a bear too. He turned him into a bear so that Kallisto would not be harmed, and mother and son could be reunited.

"But Zeus had to then hide his actions from Hera, so he took the two bears and flung them into the sky by their tales. He was happy that both Kallisto and Arktos were happy and safe in the sky, watching the world together as mother and son. But because Zeus had thrown the bears by their tails', he had damaged them. They became stretched and disfigured, making them look like pans. But it did mean that Hera did not notice the two bears in the sky."

"You have a nice voice." I tell him when he has finished.

"Thank you."

"How do you know all of these stories?"

"My Dad used to tell me them when I couldn't sleep. He'd take me outside and tell me stories about all these gods and conspiracy theories."

"Do you believe them?"

"I don't know, I think it is a nice concept."

"Me too."

We fall into silence again.

"We should probably start walking home Katniss, it's a reasonably long walk."

I sigh deeply.

"Okay, let's go."

* * *

><p>"Thank you for this evening." I tell Peeta, as we walk up the path to my house.<p>

"I didn't do anything, Kitty Kat."

I laugh off his attempt to wind me up.

"Thank you for dinner then."

"Anytime."

I lean against the door and smile at him.

"No Katniss, I'm serious. Anytime, even at 4:11 AM."

"You're only saying that because I won't let you bake until 5am."

"I'm guessing I'm not allowed to kiss you goodnight?" He asks, nodding his head to the upstairs window.

Faces press eagerly against the glass.

I pull him closer to me so that I am almost sandwiched between his body and the cool wood of the door.

"No you can, but I think you have to make it worthwhile."

"Oh, is that the case?"

I nod, the start of a coy smile on my lips.

"We should give them a show at least, who knows how long they have been waiting."

Peeta chuckles into the air, leans down and kisses me. I grab his top in my hands and pull him closer until he is flush against me. He gasps into my mouth but doesn't stop, his tongue flips over my bottom lip and I open my mouth.

I don't know how long we kiss for, but when we finally pull apart we are both breathless.

"I'll talk to you later." He tells me, brushing his lips against mine once more. "Good luck in there."

"Thanks." I breathe. "I'm going to need it."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm just going to remind people that Katniss is OOC. She will just be a less stubborn character that is actually open to new ideas - however, she will still be Katniss and will do typical Katniss stuff. I hope you like the chapter, thank you for the lovely reviews:3 <strong>


	7. Chapter 6

**I just wanted to thank all of the guests who have reviewed not only on the last chapter, but on the entire story! It means the world to me and I'm sorry that I cannot thank you personally... Also, if I haven't replied to any reviewers with an account, just let me know! I have a bad memory ( as you guys know.) I hope you enjoy this chapter – things start getting serious! O.o**

* * *

><p>I fall back into the clouds of pillows, having showered and changed, smiling like a Cheshire Cat. My face is buried in the duvet and I find myself laughing to myself, giggling like a little girl.<p>

I half expect myself to start rebuilding the walls that Peeta is so slowly demolishing. But I don't. Instead, I feel happy and completely care free. Maybe it's because I've never done it before; maybe it's because I no longer have the security of my friends; or maybe it's because for the first time in forever, I feel like there is more to life.

Prior to my evenings with Peeta, my life was Prim and I thought that was it. When my dad died, my goal was to not let Prim suffer any more than she had to. I had few friends growing up and no romantic interests; I feared letting people in because I never wanted to turn out like my mother. In the process, my fear overcame me. I forgot what it was like to _feel._

I forgot what it was like to have someone genuinely care for you. It's too soon to say if I love Peeta or if he loves me, but I know that I care for him. Maybe it was the first shy kisses or the way he gently brushed the hair out of my eyes, but I do feel like some part of him cares.

A voice inside my head is telling me that I am being naive. I've let in the first person who tries to take down my well-crafted walls and what is to stop Peeta wounding me?

I shake my head against the duvet.

He may have been the first person to have shown any interest in me, but I was also the first to show any interest in him – I think.

I sigh gently, my smile slowly turning into a frown.

"Stop it Katniss, you're just ruining it for yourself!" I whisper.

I force myself to breathe deeply. My head clears slightly and the voices silence themselves.

I pick up my phone from the bedside table and open a new message for Peeta. Staring at the flashing curser, I find myself lost as to what to say.

_Thank you for a lovely evening? It was nice seeing you? _

Everything I think of seems inadequate.

I think over the evening and remember I never offered Peeta for an explanation for my freak out over the car. Instead of telling Peeta outright how much I enjoyed this evening, I decide to open up a little bit more. That's my way of saying thank you, however trivial it may sound.

_Katniss: Peeta, if I told you something stupid, would you laugh at me? _

He replies a few moments later.

_Peeta: Hmm, that depends. How stupid are we talking? Is it that you believe in Unicorns or that you think Dumbledore is real? As both are true, I wouldn't laugh. _

_Katniss: Who the hell is Dumbledore?_

_Peeta: WHO THE HELL IS DUMBLEDORE?! KATNISS EVERDEEN, HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW WHO DUMBLEDORE IS?!_

_Katniss: Uh, I don't know. But if it makes you feel any better, I know what unicorns are. _

_Peeta: Everybody knows what unicorns are. They're fabulous creatures that poop rainbows and cry glitter. _

_Peeta: Wait, what am I talking about? Unicorns don't cry. _

_Katniss: You're funny. :D_

_Peeta: So, what did you want to tell me? I promise I won't laugh. _

_Katniss: I just wanted to explain why I freaked out over the idiot driver…_

_Peeta: You don't have to Katniss, though I was wondering why._

I sigh.

_Katniss: Any chance I can call? I wouldn't know how to explain it._

_Peeta: Of course. _

I pinch the bridge of my nose as I dial. He answers on the first ring.

"Hello Katniss."

I smile. I like the way he says my name; unlike most people, the s-sound isn't harsh and the T is over-exaggerated. It's soft and gentle. I feel like I'm hearing it for the first time.

"Hi Peeta."

"So, what's up?"

"I have no idea how to explain this…" I try.

"It's okay, there's no rush."

"Okay, so the other day, I was walking to Haymitch's house. I was going to drop off my father's guitar before seeing Prim, to see if he could fix it. And this car came screaming down the road before stopping next to me. This really young man, probably no less than 20, pulled up next to me. You know when someone just seems really odd to you?-"

"-Yeah."

"Well it was like that. I kept trying to walk away, but he didn't want to leave me alone. He seemed to drive off when he saw Haymitch's house though, which I don't really understand... Another thing that I don't understand was that the car was licensed by the Capitol. I mean, they're meant to be good-"

"-Katniss." Peeta interrupts abruptly.

"What?" I ask, stopping my story.

"Uh," His voice sounds strange: a mix between being urgent and desperate.

He clears his throat.

"The Capitol is only meant to employ good drivers, or so I thought."

Even Peeta's laugh sounds wrong; false and edgy, as opposed to free and almost musical.

"Um, Peeta-" I try, only to be cut off again.

"One second Katniss." He tells me.

I hear something going on in the background, but wait patiently with the phone pressed to my ear. I listen for any clues as to what is going on.

Just as I feel like my stomach couldn't sink much lower, I receive a text from Peeta. I open it, confused.

_Peeta: _I am so sorry Katniss! I promise, I'll explain later. Can you please trust me and change the subject?

I have to reread the message a few times over.

"Are you still there?" He asks me, just as I put the phone back to my face.

"Yeah, I am." I say quietly.

I feel like Peeta is holding his breath.

"So, who's Dumbledore?" I ask, trying to sound enthusiastic.

He lets out a sigh of relief.

"Only the best Headmaster that Hogwarts has ever seen!"

"What's Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, silly." Peeta tells me with a very-matter-of-fact tone of voice.

"Okay, I'm lost."

"How have you never read Harry Potter Katniss? That is a crime."

"It looks like I'm going to be imprisoned for a long time then. I've already got 5 years for never having eaten lamb stew before tonight and now I have this."

He laughs.

"How long have I got then, Mellark?" I fake sigh.

"12 years."

"12 years?"

"Yes Katniss, 12 years. You can do your waiting; Sirius Black waited 12 years in Azkaban. Therefore, you can do this."

"Who is Sirius Black? Was he the headmaster before Dumbledore?"

"Oh Kitty Kat, you're cute when you try."

"Hey, come on now!" I protest. "You cannot call me that! At least not until I find an equally embarrassing name for you!"

"Can I at least call you Kat? You know, as a compromise?" He asks, just teasing me more.

I half sigh, half laugh.

"If that's what you want."

I smile into the receiver. After a few minutes, I forget about how Peeta reacted to the mention of the Capitol. I forget how I should be going to sleep. I forget everything. Instead, I laugh through the night talking about mindless things. I only put the phone down when the sun starts to come up.

Once again, I sleep soundlessly.

* * *

><p>After dozing for a few hours, I get up around 8am. I shower and dress for work reasonably quickly, throwing on the same pair of jeans as last night, along with a basic black camisole. Once my hair is secured in its typical braid down my back, I leave my room.<p>

Just as I reach the bottom of the stairs, a voice sounds from the kitchen.

"Katniss, is that you?" Madge calls.

I walk into the kitchen.

"Yes, it's me."

"Your shift has been moved."

"It has?"

"Instead of working 9 'til 5, you're on the 11 to 3 shift." She tells me, her mouth full of toast.

"Shorter shift," I think aloud. "So I'm on tables today?"

Madge nods at me while taking a swig of coffee.

"Who am I with?" I ask.

"I'm on tables with you. You're finishing early because I need to train my replacement."

Madge isn't leaving her job entirely, but her hours will be reduced until after the wedding. Apparently, planning a wedding is nearly a 24/7 job – lucky me.

"Oh right, thanks."

"Maybe you can see Peeta tonight." She suggests, a knowing smile flashing behind her favorite coffee mug.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I laugh, throwing one of her abandoned crusts at her.

"Because you look like _that._"

She points at me, smirking.

"I don't look like anything!" I protest. "I just look like Katniss."

"No you don't."

"Why don't I look like myself?"

"For starters, the Katniss I know doesn't smile as she walks around the house. She normally just scowl-"

I scowl at her.

"-Wait, never mind. You're back."

She laughs at me, shaking her head.

"You look happy." Madge observes.

"And I'm not normally happy?"

"No. You're normally so busy in getting on with your life, you _forget_ to be happy."

"Oh."

I did come to that conclusion myself last night, but can people really read me that well? I always thought I was a closed book, but maybe I'm not.

"That was one hell of a kiss last night too." She teases.

I smile, biting my bottom lip.

"Yeah, it was."

"Your next date is your third date, right?"

"We haven't arranged a next date yet Madge, but yeah. Why?"

"Because you know, _third date._"

"Yeah, so?"

She clears her throat.

"Are you going to, _you know… _Have a _third date_?"

"I'll probably see him again, if that's what you're asking." I tell her.

She looks at me pointedly.

"What?"

"Katniss, you're so clueless!"

"What?" I ask again.

"The third date is usually when couples first," she clears her throat again. "Spend the night together."

Oh.

"Unless it's me," another voice says. "I usually wait for the third minute and that's if I'm feeling classy."

Jo pats me on the butt as she walks past, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Nice kissing last night." She adds.

I blush and look at my shoes.

Quite frankly, I haven't thought about _spending the night _with Peeta yet. It never came up in conversation or during my late night lets-over-think-everything sessions.

"You're now thinking about it, aren't you?" Madge asks, though her tone of voice isn't questioning.

I nod slightly.

"Katniss, I was just teasing. It's not really the kind of thing you plan anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Just do what I told you last night-"

"-Damn, did I miss you giving Katniss sex tips?" Johanna pipes up, smirking.

Madge glares at her, though it only makes Johanna laugh.

"Just do what I told you last night," she repeats. "Go with what you're comfortable with, when you're comfortable with it. Don't do anything just because we teased you about not doing it."

"Right, I'm off to work." Jo says suddenly. "But I still think you should put out."

"Ignore her." Madge tells me.

"I will, don't worry."

I rise from the seat I don't remember sitting in.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll go check on Prim, I guess."

"Okay, see you later."

* * *

><p>I let myself into my old house, figuring there was no need to knock.<p>

"Prim, I'm here!" I call into the empty hallway.

"I'm in the kitchen!" She calls back.

I walk the small distance into the kitchen and sit on one of the kitchen chairs.

"So, how's Lover Boy?" Prim laughs, kicking me gently under the table.

"Hi Katniss, it's nice to see you. How are you?" I mock her tone, rolling my eyes.

"Hi Katniss, it's nice to see you." She repeats. "How's Lover Boy?"

"You're as bad as the idiots I live with."

"Yeah, but I'm your Sister. Therefore, you have to actually talk to me."

"Who says?"

"I say. Now tell me about your date."

"You're awfully demanding for a 15 year old."

"I know. It's a blessing and a curse."

I sigh.

"What would you like to know?"

She looks me up and down, smiling knowingly.

"You kissed, didn't you?"

"Why am I so easy to read?" I complain, putting my head in my hands.

"To an outsider, you're not. But to the people who actually know you, you're about as easy to read as Enid Blyton."

I laugh.

"Enid Blyton?"

"She's the woman who wrote 'Famous Five' and 'The Enchanted Lands of the Magic Far Away Tree'."

"Why do I not know anything about books?"

"Because you haven't read a book since you were nine." She tells me. "Why, what else don't you know about?"

"Peeta has been teasing me because I didn't know who Dumbledore was."

"I thought you read Harry Potter?"

I shake my head.

"You're a disappointment." She laughs, rocking on her chair.

"How nice of you say."

She sticks her tongue out at me.

"I guess you're not too bad." She tells me.

"Not too bad?"

"Well, who else will get me food?"

I look at the clock on the crumbling wall and frown; it's already 10:15.

"You're going to have to come to the diner with me then, I don't have time to go to the shops."

"That's fine." Prim smiles. "It's been ages since I've seen Madge, Effie and Haymitch."

I laugh.

"And you have no idea how lucky you are for that!" I tease. "Come on then, let's go."

We both move from the kitchen; Prim slips on a pair of tatty trainers and waits patiently by the door, while I quickly check all the windows are closed on the ground floor – a routine check on my part. The house may not be the best on the block but many families, like my own, simply can't afford luxuries. Sadly, some result to steeling in order to provide for their family. It's happened before and I'm sure it'll happen again.

"You ready?" Prim calls.

"God, you're impatient when you're hungry."

"Damn right."

"Come on then Little Duck."

We step out into the hot summer's air and I lock the door behind us. As we walk, a light conversation falls. Prim asks me, all jokes aside, how my date was and I tell her.

I tell her about how we danced on top of cars, whispered tales of the stars and ate amazing food.

"Don't leave out kissing." She chides, jabbing me in the ribs.

I roll my eyes at her.

"Just wait until you get a boyfriend, I'll make your life living hell." I warn.

"Peeta's your boyfriend?" She seems shocked.

"Well, I guess so Little Duck."

"No offense Katniss, but it's not the kind of thing you guess. He either is or he isn't, it's normally the kind of thing you talk about."

"We sort of did talk about it though."

"And what was said?"

"I don't know," I reply. "It was confusing."

"Sometimes I wonder how you have made it this far in life."

I look sideways at Primrose. She's taller than I was at her age, though just as skinny. Her clothes hang loose, hanging awkwardly from her slender shoulders. She wears a white V-neck t-shirt, with a pair of black leggings, along with the dirty white trainers she slipped on earlier.

Though I know my sister is 15, she looks like an overstretched 10 year old. Her skin is clear, unlike most teens and like me, she is reasonably small chested. I can't help but think that if Prim got a little more meat on her bones, she would fill out into a very attractive young woman.

"Stop staring at me, it's weird." She laughs, folding her arms over her chest.

"When did you get this skinny?"

"Do you mean before or after we had no money for food?"

Her words are harsh, though it's said softly. I know she wouldn't mean it, but her words cut through me.

"How often does Mom come home?" I ask.

I don't really want to know the answer, but I need to hear it. There was a long period when Mom didn't even co me home, she ate and slept at the hospital where she works. It was like having a stranger try to pay the bills.

"Not often, maybe once or twice a week."

"But Prim, you're only a child! You shouldn't be left alone."

"I don't mind it too much. It means I get to do what I want, chose what is on the TV and eat what I want."

"This is apparently never."

"I do eat Katniss!" She protests. "I'm not actively turning food away."

"I know," I whisper. "I know."

We fall back into mindless chatter then. Part of me twinges with guilt, for I have a house and guaranteed meals. I've even developed a social life, while Prim is left starving in an empty house.

We're just about to enter the Diner when someone taps me on the shoulder. I spin round, clasping hold of Prim.

"Hello Katniss." The familiar voice says.

Peeta.

"Hi."

"I was hoping to run into you, can I borrow you for 5 minutes?"

I look from Peeta to Prim and back to Peeta.

"Sure." I tell him. "Prim, go and find a table and I'll get you some food in a bit."

"Okay Katniss." She smiles. "Hi Peeta."

"Hey Prim, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too." She tells him.

My eyes follow her as she walks away.

"Sorry, was this a bad time?" Peeta asks.

"No, it's fine." I smile at him. "I'm just worried about Prim…"

"Why? What's wrong with Prim?"

I open my mouth to explain, only to close it again.

"Nothing, I'll explain later. So what's wrong?"

Peeta looks around, before taking my hand and walking me to the edge of the building. We slip down the side so that we are stood in a large alleyway – it's where all the bins are stored.

"I wanted to explain what happened last night."

"What about last night?" I ask, confused.

"When we were on the phone and-"

"-And you went all weird." I tease.

"Yes, when I went all weird." He laughs.

"Okay, so what happened?"

"Katniss, you need to be really careful."

His voice is low and warning and he looks me dead in the eyes as he talks. If it weren't for the small circles he was drawing on the back of my hands, I might have been scared.

"Careful," I whisper. "Why do I need to be careful? What do I need to be careful about?"

"The Capitol."

"Peeta, I'm confused."

"I probably shouldn't say this outside, but we're probably as safe as we will ever be." He clears his throat. "The Capitol has eyes and ears everywhere. They are always watching and I mean _always watching._ I know that they sometimes listen in on phone calls, read texts; _I know._"

"What do you mean, _you know?"_

"The Capitol plays games, Katniss. The incident with the driver was probably a coincidence, but if they hear you badmouthing President Snow or any of the government, they _will_ kill you."

"Then why are you telling me this now? What if they kill you for telling me?"

"Oh Katniss," He half smiles, "Your life is worth much more than mine."

I frown.

"Please be careful okay? Be careful with what you say and who you trust. Watch your back, constantly."

"I will."

"Promise me you will."

"Peeta, I-"

"-Katniss, promise me. Please."

"Okay, I promise." I whisper.

He pulls me into a hug then.

"Thank you." He breathes.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Now it's your turn to promise me."

He laughs softly next to my ear.

"I promise Katniss, I'm okay."

I lean back slightly, brushing my fingers under his cheekbones. He looks back at me through his long eyelashes. He smiles sweetly at me.

I smile back and rise up on my tiptoes in order to press my lips against his. His body relaxes almost immediately, though he holds me tighter still. I linger for a few moments, before returning to my regular height and pulling away.

"You kissed me." He whispers, smiling from ear to ear.

"I did." I whisper.

"Thank you."

"No need." I tell him.

"Do you want to do something tonight?" He asks.

"I'd love to."

"I am both offended and appalled that you have not read or seen any of the Harry Potters. Though it goes against everything I believe in, would you like to come over to watch the first film?"

I laugh at him.

"Will it shorten my sentence in any way?"

"Nope. You still have a total of 17 years."

"I hate you."

He kisses me then. His tongue brushes against my lower lip just like last night and before I know it, I'm clinging to frame as we explore the others mouth.

He pulls away, puffy lipped and panting slightly.

"Do you still hate me?" He asks sweetly, resting his forehead against my own.

"I guess not."

"Good, I'm glad."

"I finish at 3 today, what time do you want me?"

"If you want, I can walk you to mine from here at 3."

"Uh, sure."

"It would give us time to talk then."

"And the whole evening isn't time to talk?" I tease.

"You mean when you watching Harry Potter? No. It is not."

"Does your house have surveillance cameras in your house or something?" I ask, dropping my tone.

He laughs.

"No, but I think I should warn you about something first."

"Are your friends as bad as mine or something?"

He laughs again.

"No, I live alone."

"Then what is there to warn me about?"

"I just don't want you to treat me any differently, that's all."

"Why would I treat-"

"-Just trust me, okay?"

"Okay." I whisper.

He brushes his lips against mine quickly.

"I'll see you later okay?"

I nod.

We walk silently back around the rectangular building, before stopping in front of the main doors.

"Bye Katniss." He says.

I reach up and kiss him once more, squeezing his shoulder as I do so.

"Bye Peeta."

Before doing or saying anything else, I turn and walk into the diner trying not so smile.

* * *

><p>Effie served Prim food before I returned, giving it her on the house. She may be many things our Effie, but she loves Primrose to pieces – most people do.<p>

By the time my shift had officially started, Rue called Prim letting her know she was home. Prim then proceeded to say her goodbyes to the staff here at Trinkets and half walk half skip home, to meet her friend.

I work at the tables and like expected: I smile, take orders and deliver food. My mind though, remains elsewhere.

It all floods around in my head, like water spiraling down a drain. I think about Peeta and the Capitol, mainly. Why did he know so much about the government and how they work? Every government is corrupted in their own way, surely not just Panem-Candem-Maine. So why is it so bad? And why did Peeta value my life over his?

It swims round and around and around for hours. Before I know it Effie is tapping me on the shoulder, informing me that my shift is over.

"Katniss, it's 3. You're done for the day."

I nod at the customers I just delivered food to, trying not to drawl: 2 large double decker cheese burgers, complete with bbq source and onion rings; a child's all-day-breakfast, organized in a smiley face; and one cheese and tomato Pizza.

It is only then that I realize I haven't eaten since last night, and my stomach starts to growl.

"Thanks Effie," I tell her. "I have tomorrow off again, right?"

"Yes, you do!" She informs me, excitedly. "You can expect a lot more time off. The new girl, Glimmer, is very good at her job. She's been doing the bar single-handedly for the last hour – without any training."

I look over at the bar.

Glimmer is a tall, fake blond. Paired with fake boobs, her black t-shirt looks like a child's, barely reaching the waist band of her ripped denim shorts. With a bright orange face and red lips, she looks over and smiles, waving a freshly manicured hand at me.

I roll my eyes.

'_This is what Madge has left me with.' _I think to myself.

Her hair falls in tousled waves, roots darker than her painted on eyebrows, which she pushes back impatiently. Upon seeing me watching her, she skips over wearing a pair of red patent heals.

"Katniss!" She calls. "Hi, I'm Glimmer."

"So I heard." I tell her, trying to hide my disgust.

She looks like a tart.

"With Madge getting married, we'll be spending a lot of time together and I am sure we will be the best of friends."

Effie raises an eyebrow at me, smirking then laughing to herself as she walks away.

"Great." I try to sound enthusiastic, though even I know it comes out feeble.

"Not to stir stuff up, but I think you should know." She says, lowering her voice and linking her arms with mine. She walks me to the staff room. "But Madge was complaining that you are always taking her clothes and never even say thank you."

I pull up short, forcing Glimmer to stop with me.

"That doesn't sound like Madge." I say slowly, testing the words in my mouth. "She's the one trying to get me to wear them, not the other way around."

"Well it's what she said, okay?!" Glimmer spits hotly, before setting her face in the most forced smile ever. "Well, I'll see you later."

She waddles away in her red heels, going from table to table, Madge in tow. I nod at her, silently asking her to come over. She does.

"Hey. God, out of everybody, I had to pick the sluttiest replacement didn't I?" She asks, exasperated.

"Yeah, thanks for leaving me with her." I laugh, hitting Madge on the arm.

"I saw you to getting all buddied up." Madge jokes. "You had linked arms and friendship bracelets – the works!"

I laugh.

"No, she just said that you were annoyed I constantly steel your clothes."

"Seriously?" Madge asks, bursting into fits of laughter. "You never steel my clothes! I have to force you into them!"

"That's what I said!"

"She's going to stir up some trouble, isn't she?" Madge asks, watching Glimmer through squinted eyes.

"With a look like that, I wouldn't put it past her." I reply. "Please don't leave me alone with her."

"I'm not. I'm leaving you alone with her and Jo."

"You're leaving me with Glimmer, Jo and Effie and Haymitch." I fill.

"But you have Peeta." Madge teases. "And he is picking you up any minute."

"How do you even know that?"

"I have my ways." She laughs, rubbing her hands together.

"You're a weirdo."

"And I'm proud of it." She pauses to look me up and down. "Go and put on the spare pair of jeans in your locker, you wore them last night."

"I was planning to, but thanks."

"Anytime, just have fun third dating."

"I hope Glimmer pours hot soup over you."

"Ouch, but I deserved that. See you later."

"See you."

I quickly enter the staff room, remove my apron and take the spare pair of denim jeans out of my locker – they too used to belong to Madge. I go behind the large screen and change.

Re-braiding my hair, I give myself the once over. I can't help but think that I look very similar to how I was in the supermarket, when Peeta first met me. Basic clothing, along with no makeup, makes me look considerably blander and more tired compared to when my face is painted. I find myself unsure of how I look – is this how I have always looked? Tired and plain?

Compared to Glimmer and Madge, I look practically ill.

In the mirror, I catch the door opening.

"Hi there." A deep voice says. "Madge said that I would find you in here."

"Hey Peeta," I smile at him in the mirror. "How are you?"

He walks over to me and before I can turn around, wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me on the cheek.

"I'm good thanks, and yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good." He tells me, kissing me on the cheek once more.

I look at his appearance. He seems to be wearing the same pair of denim jeans he wore this morning, though the white t-shirt has been swapped for a black one. I notice that his black converse has a slight hole on the rubber seal of his left foot – not that it would affect him much.

I turn around in his arms and look up at him.

"I actually forgot how beautiful you were without make up." He tells me quietly.

I scoff at him.

"Oh please, I'm not even vaguely pretty."

"You are too." He protests. "I can see your freckles more without make up and your eyes look softer, I like it."

"As I've told you before, you're the first."

"Somehow, I still doubt that."

I roll my eyes at him but reach up and kiss him gently before he can respond.

"If I remember rightly, you have to explain something to me."

Peeta seems to tense, his arms tightening around me.

"You don't have to tell me anything Peeta." I try to recover. "It's just that you said-"

"No, I need to tell you. I'd just hate it if you thought of my differently because of it…" He trails off.

"Look Peeta, I'm always going to think of you as the idiot who fell over in the supermarket." I tell him, forcing him to look at me. "No matter what you say, I'll still think that."

"But Katniss-"

I close the distance between us once again, brushing my tongue over his lower lip. We kiss for a good several minutes.

"But nothing."

He smiles at me.

"Okay, shall we go?"

"Okay."

We walk out the side door into the summer's air, hand in hand and I wait for Peeta to start talking.

* * *

><p><strong>Hmm, I wonder what Peeta is hiding… And I wonder why he knows so much about the Capitol? This chapter was more of filler, as I thought the next bit would be better suited with its own chapter. BUT I have most of the next chapter done already; it should be up within the next 5 days. YAY. <strong>

**Please keep the reviews coming, it makes me write so much faster and honestly makes me smile like a Cheshire Cat – never mind Katniss! I love all my readers so much; you're all beautiful and amazing. Gaw, I'm a lucky writer :3**

* * *

><p><em>Okay, so a few people have tried to predict why Peeta knows so much and what the secret was, which I think is awesome. Please keep guessing! Also, I have a poll on my page at the moment, please answer it if you have a moment - it's about the possibility of publishing this story in Peeta's POV. Thanks! <em>


	8. Chapter 7

**T rating. **

Peeta rubs circles on the back of my hand while we walk. He's quiet for a while, I imagine gathering his thoughts. Every once in a while I squeeze his hand, wordlessly telling him that it is okay and can take his time.

"Would you like to take the main rode or the side roads?" He asks, cutting the silence. "The main road is faster, but the side roads are considerably quieter."

"Considering that talking through Harry Potter is forbidden-"

"-About as forbidden as the Forbidden Forest-"

"- I'm going to go with the side roads."

He chuckles to himself.

We fall back into a gentle silence as we cross roads, taking lefts then rights. It's only when we are behind the frontline and away from the action that Peeta starts talking.

"You probably have so many questions for me right now." He comments. "What am I hiding? Why do I know so much about the Capitol? Et cetera, Et cetera."

I try to smile.

"Those thoughts have crossed my mind."

"I can't remember if I told you, but I used to be an architect." He starts talking. His voice smooth but nearly emotionless. "After high school, I managed to get a scholarship to one of the Design Collages. It was such a great opportunity; my family couldn't have afforded it otherwise. My parents weren't exactly poor, but weren't in a positon to send any of us to Collage either.

"In my first term, I got pulled out of one of the lectures. I was asked to wait in one of the offices, watched closely by a pair of guards – Peacekeepers, you'll know them as."

Peacekeepers were the president's personal guards; designed to look threatening enough to scare you, but 'keep you calm' in dangerous situations – but I'm sure they would kick your head in, given the opportunity.

"I waited for ages, it seemed. They offered me tea and everything; I remember my hands shaking like crazy and I kept trying to conceal it by fiddling with a pen - I don't think it worked. You know when something just seems wrong and like you shouldn't be there?"

I'm not sure if he is actually looking for an answer, but I give him one anyway.

"Yeah I do and it's terrifying."

"Exactly," he continues, nodding. "After a while, one of the guards pulled me to my feet and in walked the president."

"President Snow himself?"

"Yes, President Snow himself. He looks just like everyone says; a snake waiting to kill. I don't know how to explain it, but it's like he can see your weaknesses and is simply waiting to exploit them."

I shudder.

"Anyway, he told me that someone leaked the layout of his mansion, along with all the escape plans and defense locations. Snow needed someone trustworthy to design him a new mansion, along with all the necessary plans and that I'd be paid for both my trouble and secrecy."

"You agreed?" I know that I don't hide my surprise or disgust very well.

"Not at first."

"What do you mean, not at first?"

"When they told me everything, I said no. It would make me a target, along with my family and friends; that's when he started to laugh. He looked me up and down and called me an idiot. Snow turned and said something to one of his guards in a different language."

"Why don't I like where this is going?" I voice.

"They brought out a dead body Katniss." His voice cracks as he says my name.

I pull up short.

"They did what?"

"They threw a body onto the tables. Their skull was dented and blood covered their clothes; I knew him. His name was Kyle and he was in my class. Snow laughed again and told me that I wasn't the first person he had contacted, and if I didn't agree to work for him he would make sure that everyone I loved was put in an early grave."

"Peeta," I breathe, pulling him towards me. "You don't have to continue, its fine."

"Yes, I do."

His hands shake against my waist, though his voice is steady. It's as if he isn't talking about himself at all, just a stranger. But his eyes tell me differently.

I rub my hands up and down his arms, trying to get warmth back into his being.

"Snow then proceeded to talk about my family. He knew everything: names, dates, addresses. And he told me exactly what would happen if I breathed a word to anybody. I'd watch them die in front of me, completely helpless, and then I'd be tortured until my last breathe."

"But Peeta, you're okay! Your family are-"

"Dead Katniss, they're dead."

I fall silent.

"Did you," I try. "Did you tell anyone?"

"Not a soul, I was always extremely careful with where I worked and where I told my parents I was going. My mom would yell at me all the time for being so secretive; I think my dad understood though. He told me once that he didn't trust the Capitol, that some of his friends tried to rebel against them and now they're dead. Funnily enough, a few weeks later the accident happened."

"So, your dad was the one who-"

"He didn't cause the accident Katniss." Peeta tells me sternly. "He could of badmouthed the president to his face and he still wouldn't have caused the accident."

"That wasn't what I was saying Peeta." I try to keep my voice gentle, but his words annoyed me – of course I wasn't blaming his father.

"Sorry…" He mumbles, pausing to kiss me on the top of my head. "It's a touchy subject."

"Of course, I understand that."

"As you can tell, I took the job. I handed over all the documents and Snow guaranteed that I would be kept completely wiped from the records: nobody would know that I had anything to do with the redesign. He also guaranteed my safety, so long as I never told anyone."

"You finished before the accident?"

"Yeah, I did. In my opinion, the accident was designed to kill me instead. But as we all look very alike, my brothers accepted my fate… It's my entire fault"

"You can't blame yourself for that though Peeta! Just like with your dad, you could have done anything to the Capitol – it didn't mean that it was your responsibility!"

"But Katniss-"

I nuzzle my head into his neck.

"No Peeta," I smile. "Just shut up and trust me."

He laughs softly into my ear, holding me tighter.

"Using my own words back at me, what have we come to?"

"We'll just be our own freak show."

He smiles down with me.

"I think I can live with that."

"Me too." I reply.

"So there is one more thing you need to know."

"Are you sure Peeta? Maybe that's enough for one day…"

"No, I'm fine." He kisses me. "Really."

"Okay." I smile at him.

"Working for the Capitol, I earned quite a lot of money. Put that on top of the compensation of the car accident, and-

"-Peeta, are you trying to tell me that you're rich?"

He laughs.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"On a scale of a homeless guy to the queen of England, where are you on the scale?"

He laughs harder.

"Sorry, that was over the line."

"No no, it's fine." He disentangles his arms from around me and takes hold of my hand. We begin to wall down the road once again. "I don't know where I am on that scale though."

"Can I ask you one thing?"

"Go ahead." He tells me.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Two reasons," he starts drawing patterns on my hands again. "The first and foremost is that I don't want you to freak out when you see my house; the second is that I wanted you to know."

"Do you like where you live?" I ask.

"Yes, I do." He tells me gently. "It's very secluded and was built to my taste."

"You built it?"

"I'm an architect, I designed the whole thing."

"You don't sound very proud of that." I observe.

"There's nothing impressive about designing your own house, you can't really go wrong – it's all your ideas for your own space, it's not like designing for a client."

"Still, there must be something rewarding simply knowing that all your hard work is now your home."

"I don't know, I think working for the Capitol took all the joy out of that. And besides, I think I overestimated how much room I needed."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a lot of space that I don't use. It's just me living there; I simply don't need it all."

"Oh right… You could always rent out rooms."

"I could, yes .But I don't need the money and I don't want to endanger anymore people."

"Oh," I laugh. "But you're okay endangering me?"

He smiles down at me.

"Yeah, I'm letting myself be selfish."

I laugh.

"Okay, one more question."

"Go ahead."

"Why do you want me to know all of this? You could have quite easily spun some lie about your house."

"I could have done, but I don't want to." He frowns slightly. "You're different and I haven't quite figured you out yet. But I know that I want to and I don't want to have to lie in order to do that. I'd quite like it if you stayed for me, not who I was pretending to me."

"Good luck figuring me out." I tease. "Nobody has done that yet."

"I'm always up for a challenge Everdeen."

"Bring it on Mellark."

I laugh and he squeezes my hand lightly.

"But how do you know that I'm not just staying for your money?"

"That is a chance that I am willing to take."

I laugh again – something I'm still not used to doing so freely.

"Don't worry, I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm not staying for the money."

He smiles and dips his head down, kissing me gently as we walk.

"Good."

We chatter mindlessly the rest of the way. Following the winding lanes, I point at large houses guessing which one belongs to Peeta – I get it wrong each time. Before long we are back in the estates, walking on concrete instead of gravel.

I'm unsure of how long we have been walking when we turn down what looks like a drive way. Its pathed with continents of slate: grey, black and red. Large boulders line the edges, flowers growing between them; no property is to be seen.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"My house is down here. I told you it was secluded."

"Oh."

Just when I think it couldn't stretch any further, I see it.

"Peeta," I breathe. "It's beautiful."

In front of me is a crème building. Square in shape, it has stone colored bricks accenting the outline. Two large oak doors, standing grand, sit atop of a small set of steps – they match the driveway. Windows are dotted around the walls, blinds closed.

I guess it is two, maybe even three stories.

"This is the back of the house." Peeta tells me, looking at his shoes.

"But isn't that the front door?"

"Yes, it is. But this isn't the feature side."

"There is a feature side?"

He nods slowly.

I walk to stand in front of him and take his face in both of my hands. I kiss him gently.

"Relax." I tell him, looking him dead in the eye. "This won't make me treat you differently."

"But-"

"No buts Peeta. It's just a house."

He lets out a sigh of relief and pulls me back against him. This time his lips attack mine, firm and unyielding. I gasp against him and he holds me tighter.

I find myself extremely aware that this is one of the most passionate kissing sessions we have had, as I wrap my hands around his neck and bury my fingers in his curly hair. A warm feeling begins to spread around my stomach, igniting my blood with a fire I have never felt before.

When Peeta pulls away, a whimper leaves my lips without permission. I blush fiercely and look away from him immediately.

"Don't worry," he whispers, his voice deep and rough. "That's how I feel too."

He kisses my cheek, lingering for a second.

I find myself wondering if he too can feel fire flooding his veins, or if the hairs on his neck are stood on end as well.

He takes hold of my hand again and leads me up the remainder of the path and in through the front door.

"I can show you around, if you'd like." Peeta tells me, opening the front door with ease.

"Sure." I say, my voice not sounding at all like my own.

I step inside his house and the smell of baked goods hits me almost immediately. The scent is warm and sweet in my nostrils – it's extremely comforting.

Looking up, I'm greeted with high ceilings, beamed with dark wood. To my right is a modern staircase that follows the shape of the house. It disappears onto a landing on the floor above, though I suspect it snakes around and leads to hidden treasures.

Directly in front of me is a large stone arch. Inside it is what appears to be a large kitchen, floor to ceiling windows on the back wall. To my left is a wooden door, which takes my attention. The oak matches that of the main entrance, lifting the pale walls. I take a step towards it, before remembering that this place is not mine to explore.

Peeta laughs beside me.

"This is the den," Peeta says, opening the door. "I tend to use this more in the winter, as its warmer than the main living room."

The room itself is reasonably small, perhaps the same size as my bedroom. The wall opposite the door is a dark red, fitted with a black fireplace. I notice that the blinds I saw from the outside are a light matt grey, matching the fluffy carpet. A medium sized leather sofa faces the large TV that is mounted on the wall. Photographs line the free walls, faces smiling like they know me.

I nod taking it all in.

I let Peeta pull be backwards, back into the hallway and we walk under the arch and into the kitchen. I run my fingers over the stone; it's cool and smooth to touch.

The kitchen is extremely modern and large in size. Red cupboard doors reflect the afternoon sunlight, bouncing it off the black marble surfaces. A glossy island sits in the middle, fully equipped with a sink and bar stools. The sink faces the window, allowing you to look out as you cleaned up.

I feel like everything is placed where you would want it to be.

"I might stay for your house though." I say quietly, smirking as my eyes flit from one feature to the next.

Peeta just laughs beside me.

"Come on; wait until you see the view."

To the right of the kitchen, under a matching arch is a dining room. It has the same floor to ceiling windows that the kitchen has, flooding the room with natural light. A large table sits in the center, matching chairs around it. Place settings and coasters sit stacked on the table, beneath a bowl of fruit. The walls are the same cream color as the kitchen and hallway, with the same pale laminate beneath my feet.

He leads me through the dining room and yet another arch, into a living room. It has a large L-shaped suede couch, sat upon a red fluffy rug. The side wall is made up of sliding doors, revealing the best of the view.

At the back of the house is a large garden that containing every verity of tree I can name: willow, oak, cherry-blossom and so on. The grass slowly tapers off into boulders, then bare rock. After a while, the ground simply disappears.

I think we're too low down to see what lies beneath but even then, it's beyond beautiful.

"It's a cliff face." Peeta tells me, following my gaze. "It's just sea down there, no beach or port."

"Isn't that scary?"

"No, why would it be scary?" He asks.

"But won't the rock face be eroded by the sea?" I ask, while trying to remember what little high school geography I took part in.

"Well yes, but it would take many years before the house is even remotely close to the edge. And there is a variety of rock armor down there too."

"Peeta, your house is beyond amazing."

"Thanks." He smiles at me. "When you're outside, on a nice day you can hear the sea."

I look around the room again. An even larger TV sits in the corner, with DVDs and video games stacked neatly around it. There is also a large bookshelf on one of the free walls, overflowing with books.

"I can show you the rest if you'd like."

"What else is there?" I laugh.

"Downstairs, this is pretty much it, other than a room I just use for storage. The first floor is mostly untouched, spare bedrooms and a family bathroom. I use the office to paint, that's about it."

"There are three floors?"

"Then there is my bedroom, a bathroom and stairs onto the roof."

"Woah."

"I'm glad you like it." He laughs.

"It's very well designed." I comment.

"Again, thank you. I think you're just saying that though."

"I'm really not."

He just shrugs at me.

"So am I about to be educated on the world of Harry Potter?"

"Soon, yes."

"Soon?"

"Yes, I kind of like talking."

"Oh." I smile.

He takes my hand and leads me to the couch. Sitting down, he pulls me next to him.

"It comes to something when this sofa is better than my bed." I fake moan, nuzzling my head into Peeta's neck.

I feel his laugh bubble through his chest.

"You're adorable."

"And I like sofas."

He then proceeds to scoop me up in his arms, before gently setting me down on his lap. Smiling, I let him wrap his arms around my being and I nuzzle myself back against him.

"Thank you." He whispers, resting his forehead against my hair.

"What for?"

"For understanding, listening to me and for not judging really…"

"There's no reason for you to be judged Peeta, you did what you had to do. You didn't have a choice."

"So why are you worried about Prim?" Peeta asks gently.

I sigh against him and I find myself briefly wondering why I'm so relaxed like this, cuddled with a boy.

"It's complicated…" I tell him.

"So was mine, but you listened."

"It's just that, every time I see Prim she has lost so much weight. My Mom is working herself into the ground, claiming she is trying to provide for them both, but for the most part it is unpaid. She just doesn't want to go back to that house."

"But Katniss, you can't blame her for that-"

"-I can blame her for letting Prim starve though Peeta. She doesn't earn enough to pay the mortgage, along with the other bills and food. I already pay for Prim's lunches and school books, as well as most of the food shops. My Mom never even goes home to see Prim, she's constantly alone…" My tone turns desperate.

"Is that even safe? She's only 15, right?"

"I don't know what's safe. But I can't go back into that house Peeta, but I also…" I trail off.

"What is it Katniss?"

I blush and twist my fingers into a knot.

"It's just that I, um, can't really afford my rent on top. Haymitch pays for my phone, in case of an emergency…"

"You don't need to be embarrassed because you don't have much money, Katniss. The fact that you're working, not only to keep your own head above water, but your sisters too is beyond impressive. Give yourself some credit."

"What do I do if I can't keep Prim healthy though? You saw her today, imagine her even skinnier."

"Katniss, I know that you won't let that happen. You'll find a way, I'm sure of it. And you're not alone anymore."

"I'm not?" I ask, looking up at him.

"I'm not going to let you struggle."

"We may be dating Peeta, but I'm not going to actively take your money."

"Katniss, you'd be doing me a favor honestly." He laughs.

"Why?"

"You asked how much money I had before, didn't you. Let's just say I have enough for both of us to not have to work again until the day we die, and then some."

"Seriously?"

"I'm not going to let you struggle." He repeats. "But I'm also not going to take away your independence, because I think you need it."

I smile.

"It still shocks me that you know me so well, and we have only been out a few times."

"I like watching you." He admits.

"I'm not sure if to run screaming or kiss you."

He laughs. I kiss him.

"I'm glad you didn't run screaming."

"It's only 4:30. There is still time for me to do that."

"This date sounds more and more promising the more you talk." He laughs. "There's still time for me to run. I might stay for your house though."

His attempt to mimic my voice has me gasping for breath, clutching my stomach. Peeta looks down at me amused, a gentle crease forming between his eyebrows. He shakes his head slightly before gently brushing his lips against mine.

I let my head lull against his shoulder once more and his arms hold me tighter. We stay like that for a while, feeling the other breathe.

"If you're not careful, I'm going to end up falling asleep on you." I mumble into his t-shirt.

"There are worst ways for me to spend the evening." He whispers, kissing the top of his head.

I can't help but notice that Peeta is being very free with his kisses this evening. Part of me is wondering if it has anything to do with _third dat_ing, though I silence my thoughts.

"No, I want to understand the whole Albus, and Sirius waiting 12 years thing."

He laughs beneath me.

"Come on then let me get up." He says. "I'll put the film on and get you a drink."

I sigh.

"Okay."

I move from his lap and sit on the couch.

"What would you like to drink?"

"I'm happy with water, thank you."

"Okay."

I kick off my shoes under the table and fall back into a lying position, my head brushing the corner piece of the furnishing. My eyes fall close automatically and I end up losing myself in my thoughts.

I'm shocked by: how beautiful this house is; how even though Peeta lives alone, just how homely it feels; what he went through to get here. I can't help but feel like we are both a little messed up in our own way, it seems to work for us though – whatever _us_ is.

I'm brought from my thoughts by a gentle kiss. Smiling, I open one eye to see Peeta crouched beside me.

"Somebody is sleepy." He comments, brushing my cheek.

"No, just incredibly relaxed."

He smiles then, hit bottom lip between his teeth. Bright eyed, he chuckles to himself.

"Glad to hear it."

He passes me the glass of water and I gulp down half the content. I pass it back for him to place on the table, which he does.

I watch him and the way his back muscles contract then relax when he moves his arms.

"See something you like Everdeen?" He teases when he catches me watching him.

Instead of answering I reach out and, taking a hold of his black t-shirt, pull him towards me. Before he can react, one of my arms wraps around his neck while the other remains balled in his shirt, and I kiss him.

He makes a sound of surprise, but quickly recovers. His hands grasp my hips tightly, anchoring me against him. After a while, I let the hand that was gripping his shirt wrap around his neck. But in doing so, his top rides up slightly.

When he doesn't go to pull it back down, I decide to give being bold a go. I grip him tighter with one hand, letting the other fall down the length of his arm. My fingers slowly inch towards the area of freed skin before making contact.

Peeta lets out a half gasp half moan, pulling away from me slightly. At first, I fear that I made the wrong decision. That is until I see that his eyes have fallen closed and he is breathing fast, he also grips my hips considerable tighter.

His skin is warm and smooth against my fingers. I swipe the pad of my thumb over the right side of his stomach and he shudders. I repeat the motion a few times before looking up and seeing that he is biting his bottom lip quite hard.

I decide to let my hand return to his neck. After a few seconds he opens his eyes, now darker, and looks at me with something close to awe.

"What?" I flash him a coy smile. "I saw something I liked."

He lets out a breathless laugh and shakes his head.

"I should tell you I'm rich more often."

I frown.

"Peeta, that isn't why I-"

He kisses me gently.

"I know. I was only teasing."

"Oh."

He grabs the remote from the arm of the chair and sits in the corner of the couch. He puts his feet up along one of the lengths and pats his leg gently.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Put your head down." He laughs.

"Oh right." I reply.

I lie back, putting my head in his lap. Wordlessly, Peeta sets up the first Harry Potter film before gently untying my braid. His fingers knot themselves in my lengths of black hair; the sensation is extremely relaxing. Nobody has played with my hair like this since my father.

"Would you like me to stop?" He asks.

I hadn't realized I had spoken aloud.

"No, please don't. I like it."

"Okay."

I turn my head to face the TV. I watch as Harry learns about his true identity, befriends Ron and Hermione and figures out the tale of the Philosopher's Stone. He battles Voldemort single handedly and wins Gryffindor the house cup.

When the film ends, I turn to Peeta and say "I thought they were meant to be like 11?"

"They are 11 or 12, depending on who it is."

"But he just fought the wizard who killed his parents."

"Just wait to see what he does when he gets older."

"It's just going to be Voldemort coming back for more, isn't it?"

"Not really." He tells me. "But what do you think?"

"What do I think of Harry Potter?"

He nods.

"It's very clever."

"We don't have to watch anymore, don't worry."

I roll onto my back and Peeta brushes my bangs behind my ear.

"No." I smile. "I want to."

"Okay."

I let him get up and change the disk over. We watch Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, then Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, in the same position as before: my head on Peeta's lap, him stroking my hair.

"I'm hungry." I admit quietly.

"I know," Peeta laughs. "Your stomach was growling through the entire film!"

"Shut up. I haven't eaten all day."

He sits up then, his hands stilling in my hair.

"Why haven't you eaten yet?"

I shrug.

"I forgot." I half tell and half ask him.

"Okay, I'm getting 2000 calories into you right now."

I sigh, sitting up myself.

"I'm going to get fat dating you."

"As you 'forget' to eat all the time, I doubt that."

"Sorry." I mumble.

Peeta shakes his head slightly and rises from the couch, offering me a hand as he does. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet.

"What would you like to eat?" He asks, leading me into the kitchen.

"What've you got?"

"Not that much." He laughs. "Take out?"

"No," I fake whine. "I don't want you to spend money on me."

"Who else can I spend it on? Please, I want to."

"Give some to charity then."

"I have, I can't give anymore without it being suspicious."

"Oh…"

"So, let me do the charitable thing and feed my starving girlfriend."

We both look at each other in shock.

"Sorry," He says quickly. "I didn't mean to say that. It just kind of happened."

I try to smile as I roll my eyes, hitting his arm for good measure.

"You're an annoying Boyfriend."

The words feel strange rolling from my tongue, alien but not completely unnatural. I imagine that, like anything else, it takes a lot of getting used to.

"Yes, I want to buy you some food. I'm a horrible, horrible person. Just lock me up and throw away the key." He deadpans with a smirk.

I try to scowl, but it quickly turns into a grin.

"So tell me, what would you like to eat?"

"I'll eat whatever you want." I say.

"No, what would you like to eat?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You're just not telling me."

I laugh.

"No, I honestly don't know what I want."

Peeta reaches out for me and for a moment, I think he is going to hug me. But his crooked smile gives him away. In attempt to get out of his impending grasp, I twist and sink to the floor. He is faster though. His hands land on my waist, catching me mid escape.

He begins to tickle me. I squeal and twist in his arms, fighting helplessly.

"Tell me what you want to eat, or I will keep tickling you." He says sternly.

"No." I gasp.

"Okay then."

He tickles and tickles me, until tears of laughter (and possibly frustration) begin to leak from my eyes. I try my best to think of what I would like to eat, but instead I'm focused on attempting to catch my breath.

"Peeta," I beg. "Please. Please stop."

He stops tickling me at once, wraps his arms tightly around me and gently lowers me onto the floor. Crouching down next to me, he wipes the pad of his thumb under my eye.

"I feel like Pizza." I tell him before he can open his mouth.

My hand lies on my stomach, rising and falling quickly as I try to regain control.

"Now," Peeta smiles "Was that so hard?"

I roll my eyes at him, as I push myself into a sitting position.

Peeta laughs and helps me to my feet once more.

"What type of Pizza would you like then?"

"How many types of Pizza are there?"

He looks at me, amused.

"Okay, let's just stick with cheese."

"Sorry." I laugh at myself. "Unless it's sold at Trinkets', you're just going to have to assume I haven't tried it before."

"Yeah but Pizza, really?"

"I've had Pizza before! Just-"

"-only one type?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you go and sit down, while I go and order."

"Okay."

I kiss his cheek gently and walk back into the living room. Instead of sitting back down, I look at the overflowing bookshelf. It seems to have everything.

I notice a collection of Enid Blyton books and smile to myself, thinking how much Prim would like it. There is also a few series written by Garth Nix, Suzanne Collins, Veronica Roth and John Green.

"I have more upstairs." A voice says.

I turn around to see Peeta back again, leaning against the wall.

"Do you like reading?" I ask.

"Yeah, I've always loved reading. It was set me apart from my family really."

"Did you read when you were little?"

"All the time."

"That's nice."

"Do you read?"

I shake my head.

"Why not?"

"I never really had the time to read, or the funds to buy the books."

"Oh…"

"My Dad would make up stories for me though at bed time and I always loved those. The only books I've ever read were my school ones."

"What a sad little life you lead."

I chuckle to myself.

"Tell me about it."

As I look at the vast selection of books, I find myself thinking about how different our lives are. He reads and I don't. I work and he doesn't. He is completely financially independent, while I can barely string together enough funds to stop my sister from starving.

That then flows onto how different we are as people. Peeta is calm, gentle and sweet, while I am generally hotheaded. Then again, Peeta has never really seen that side of me before… Have I changed?

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asks, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

I shake my head.

"Hey." He says softly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

I try to smile at him, though he sees right though me. He takes a step forward and wraps his arms around me for the millionth time today. I sigh against him and melt into his frame.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks calmly, his blue eyes searching my gray.

"Just about how different we are."

He steps back then and pulls me to the sofa. He settles me down in his lap like before and I don't resist; I've come to like the sensation of someone holding me.

"What about us being different?"

"Our lifestyles, us… Everything."

"We've done okay so far."

"That's just because you're, you." I smile.

"What do you mean?" He laughs.

"You're too sweet! I find it hard to stay mad at you."

His chuckling breaths vibrate through me.

"Well I'm not going to change; I'll always have that quality."

"I know… But I work and you don't. You read and I don't. You have achieved all these things and I can't even feed my sister. We have different interests."

"Katniss, I'm not going to let you struggle. I told you that before. But I'm not going to take anything away from you either. You'll still work, I'll still paint." He tells me. "So what if we have different interests? We don't have to like the same things or do everything together. At the end of the day, the only thing that matters is that we enjoy each other's company. Do you enjoy my company?"

I nod.

"Good. Then I'm sure we'll be fine. We'll just have to get used to how the other works."

"You have a weird superpower." I tell him.

"I do?"

"You're ridiculously calming…"

"What do you mean?"

"The few times I have almost freaked out, you've brought me back."

"Maybe I just don't want to let you go."

I sit up then. I'm still sat on his lap but I'm facing him as opposed to lying on him.

"I don't want to leave." I admit quietly.

"Katniss, I-"

"-Shut up and kiss me."

"But-"

I shake my head.

"Prove that you don't want to let me go." I whisper, resting my forehead against his.

He smiles and slowly leans forwards to capture my lips with his. At first it's incredibly gentle, almost as if he is trying to tell me something without words. Though after a few moments, he pulls my body closer to his and the pace picks up.

My hands knot themselves in his hair as he explores my mouth. His hands are on my hips, gripping tightly. Before long, the fire slowly ebbs its way back into my blood. I shuffle my body closer to his.

His hands rub up and down my spine slowly, lingering against the cotton of my top; I shudder. After a while, I feel a pair of warm hands touch my spine. My top had ridden up slightly, like Peeta's had before.

He stops suddenly.

"I didn't mean to do that. I didn't know your top had pulled up, I'm sorry."

Instead of replying, I put my lips back to his and take hold of his hands. I place them on the small of my back once more and let myself fall into his chest. My actions seem to give Peeta a bit more confidence as he picks me up, his lips not leaving mine, and lays me on my side. He lies next to me.

His hands sit on my bare stomach, not venturing above my bellybutton or below the line of my jeans. I notice how even now Peeta is not suggesting anything more than kissing – like me, he seems content with this.

I decide to be bold again like before and slip one of my hands under his t-shirt. Instead of just grazing his hip like before, I let my fingers explore his stomach. It's smooth and hard; I could be mistaken but I'm pretty sure I count six abdominal muscles. After a short amount of time, both of our hands still and we just kiss.

We only stop when Peeta's phone starts to ring on the table. Pulling apart, we laugh breathlessly for a moment before he answers it. The pizza delivery guy can't get the van down the drive, meaning Peeta must go outside to pay.

He leaves me laid on his couch, trying not to over think about the sudden emptiness.

**HI GUYS. HERE IS SOME FLUFF. I HAVE GIVEN YOU SOME FLUFF BECAUSE I HAVE WRITTEN MOST OF THE NEXT CHAPTER AND I WANTED TO APPLOGISE IN ADVANCE. **

**Can I just personally thank every single person who has reviewed on this story? In just 6 chapters, I've obtained 60+ reviews? That is crazy. Beyond crazy. Thank you so much guys! I have loved reading your predictions for what Peeta's big secret was – some of you were so close! **

**The backstory of Peeta working for the Capitol will slowly develop and it'll get more and more awesome. Why don't you try and guess what the big thing next chapter will be? I love it when you try to guess :D**

**See you next chapter! **

**Can I just say, no this is not M-rated. I personally feel this is okay for a T rated fanfiction, which is designed for 13+. There are more sexual scenes in PG movies then that. I had quite a rude message from an author about how this wasn't appropriate. If some more of you feel this way, please let me know and I will alter my writing style. I'm fine with people's opinion, but please be nice about it! I don't deserve abuse. Though in my opinion, I think this is to the same descriptive level as other T-rated fanfictions. I don't think this needs an 18+ rating. **


	9. Chapter 8

I turn in my sleep, nuzzling my head further into the pillows. The smell of cinnamon and a deep, almost musky scent fills my nostrils and I sigh lightly_. "Maybe Madge has cooked breakfast."_ I think to myself.

I blame my unusual morning contentment for the sudden softness of my scratchy comforter and in this dreamlike state, my body feels incredible light. My hands and feet seem almost entirely disconnected from my body. I feel the gentle pull of sleep behind my eyelids but I refuse to succumb to it: I'm too peaceful.

Thinking back, I try to remember the last time I felt like this and Peeta briefly comes to mind. I stir slightly, inching my semi-conscious body closer to a firm cushion – I must have discarded one in my sleep. Smiling lightly, I let my mind replay the images of last night: laughing, kissing, and tickling.

I frown suddenly. Despite my best efforts, I can't remember ever leaving his house. As if on cue, what I thought was a pillow lets out a big breath of air. I stiffen all over and the sensation comes back to me, one limb at a time.

One of my legs is hooked around something cold while the other, still encased in my denim jeans, is sprawled over the mattress. My left hand is pressed against something very solid but seems to be rising and falling with quite rapid movements. I open one of my sleepy eyes and they meet crystal blue ones.

Peeta.

I stifle a scream, sitting bolt upright in the darkness.

"I know that I'm not the most attractive guy in the world, but was the scream really necessary Katniss?"

Peeta sits up, his leg bent at a funny angle. He wears the same clothes as last night, now wrinkled with sleep.

I stare at him blankly. "I didn't scream."

"Well," He says, tilting his head slightly. "You almost did."

I scowl.

"I would turn the light on, but I already know you're scowling at me."

"How could you possibly know that? I can barely see you."

"Lucky guess."

I grab the thing closest to me and lob it at him. He laughs.

"Would you like to tell me why I'm waking up in your bed?" I meant for the words to sound normal, maybe even playful, but they sound flat and harsh even to my own ears.

I can almost see Peeta's face fall.

He reaches behind him and turns on a bedside lamp. Light floods the room.

"We were watching films and you fell asleep. At first, I tried to wake you up but you were out cold. I didn't really like the thought of you walking all the way home in that state, so after a little while, I carried you up here to sleep."

Despite the awkwardness, hanging in the air like a heavy cloud, I force myself to relax into the bed. Letting my head fall gently against his shoulder, I look around his room.

Unlike the rest of the house, the walls are painted a pale grey and are paired with a cream carpet. On the far side is a large walk in wardrobe, though most of the shelves are empty. A large mirror occupies one and tucked into the side of the frame are several pictures. I can't make them out from such a distance.

Blinking, I realised I missed the end of Peeta's recount of last night's events.

"Did we, um, sleep together?" I ask my voice just above a whisper.

He rubs one of his hands up my arm. I shiver.

"No, we didn't." He tells me gently.

"Thank god." I mumble, tucking my bangs behind my ear impatiently.

Peeta stiffens.

"Why _'thank god'_? I'm not really down for having sex with an unconscious person Katniss." His tone is unlike any other I have heard him use and I struggle to place it.

Disgust? Disappointment? Maybe even anger?

I suddenly realize how that must have sounded.

Supporting myself on one arm, I gently lean against Peeta's side and tuck my legs beneath me. I drape my free arm over the shoulder furthest from me, letting my hand hang partway down his back.

"I didn't mean it like that," I say, pinching his earlobe gently. "It's just that if we were to sleep together, I'd want to remember it."

One side of his lips curves into a small smile.

"If?" He asks lightly, his smile turning into a smirk.

"If." I confirm, leaning my face slightly closer to his.

"I'm sorry if waking up here freaked you out."

I merely shrug in response, hoping it hides the coil of mounting terror in my stomach.

Peeta pulls me closer and gently brushes his lips against mine. I allow myself to fall into him, deepening the kiss like I did many times last night. He smiles and places his hands firmly on the small of my back.

I sigh against him.

After a little while, my arm begins to lose all feeling before completely giving out. I collapse onto his chest and we fall backwards together. With both of us sprawled across the bed, I crawl up the small space until we're almost face to face.

The terror I previously felt in the pit of my stomach has been replaced with alien warmth, spreading like fire through my veins. Peeta laughs breathlessly beside me and moves to try to sit up.

Blaming the fire, I roll on top of him. His laughter stops almost immediately, replaced with a sharp intake of breath. I push myself up on my arms and place one of my knees either side of his stomach for support.

His hands find the small of my back once more; my burning skin concealed my black camisole. I lean down and close the distance between us again. His lips catch mine quickly.

We giggle, sigh and roll around. Somewhere in the mix, we swapped positions. He now lies mostly on top of me, his weight supported next to my head.

After a good 20 minutes or so, Peeta pulls away from me. With swollen lips and puffy cheeks, we look like two young teenagers after getting caught.

'_In a way, you are.' _I point out internally.

"Is something wrong?" I tease, sticking my tongue out.

He pinches the skin on my slightly revealed hip and I squirm beneath him.

"No, I'd happily do this all night." He tells me, his voice deep and hoarse.

I groan internally – I've never heard his voice sound like that before either: I like it.

"Then why aren't we?"

He laughs.

"I'm just very aware that we are currently making out on a bed."

"Oooh, _making-out._" I mock. "You make it sound so romantic."

"Shut up." He grabs hold of a by standing pillow and pretends to smother me with it.

Laughing, I relent and push myself free of his body. I clamber off the now dishevelled bed and straighten my clothing.

"What time is it?" I ask, as we slowly rebuild the bedding together.

After glancing at his watch, he tells me "Just gone 4:30."

I nod slowly.

"Can I borrow a jumper, I'm a little cold." I admit, once the blood finally leaves my cheeks.

"Yeah, sure."

He disappears into the walk-in closet, rummaging through one of the ash coloured cabinets. I walk over to the mirror behind him and look closely at the pictures that caught my eye before.

An incredibly beautiful couple are in a few of them: His hair is a golden brown halo while hers is auburn fire; both have piercing green eyes and moderately tanned skin.

An arm wraps around my waist and I jump. I didn't hear him move for once.

"That's Finnick and Annie," Peeta tells me, following my gaze. "Finnick was originally Rye's friend but was there for a lot after the accident. He and Annie were high school sweethearts; they're very striking together, aren't they?"

"I think that is an understatement."

He laughs and kisses my ear.

"Here." He passes me a green jumper. "I thought you'd appreciate the colour. Green is your favourite, right?"

I slip it on.

"You remember that?"

"First (unofficial) date: your favourite colour is green; you don't like tea or coffee; you don't have a favourite food; you're secretly 30 years old; and if you only had 24 hours left to live, you would spend it all with your sister."

"Not necessarily all of it." I admit quietly.

Peeta smiles and kisses my head again.

"Do you like dogs, Katniss?"

I look at him with a quizzical expression on my face.

"That's an awfully random question." I laugh. "But yes, I do like dogs."

"Would you like to go and watch the sunrise?"

"Did you hit your head when we were on the bed before or something? You're asking me to completely different things."

"Just follow me." He says, taking hold of my hand and leading me deeper into his bedroom.

* * *

><p>Peeta has a whole new floor to his house on the roof. Greenery occupies some of the floor space; vines grow up the white washed wall. In the pre-dawn light, several wind chimes catch my eyes. They giggle to each other, glistening in the mists of the branches.<p>

There seem to be several areas to the open space. A wooden bench faces out over the neighbouring sea, overlooking the lulling water. My mind creates the mental image of Peeta sitting there, in low light, reading a book or sketching the sunset.

I smile inwardly and twist in Peeta's arm.

We're sat on the floor, our backs pressed against the wall. I'm curled into his side, his arm wrapped around my shoulder. We face away from the sea, looking out at the trees that surround his property. The sun is just beginning to peep out from the early morning clouds; a shy smile on the violet canvas.

"Why didn't you tell me about your pets then?" I ask him quietly.

He takes hold of my hand and twists are fingers together.

"I didn't intend for it to be a secret. It just never really came up in conversation before and I kept getting uh, distracted."

I laugh silently.

"And why do you keep them up here?"

"Normally, I don't. I was going to leave them up here while I went to get you and let you settle into the house before being bombarded by the 3 idiots over there." He nods to the mound of sleeping paws and tails.

"What breads are they?"

"You're just full of questions tonight, aren't you?" His tone is light and teasing.

"Oh, sorry…" I let my voice trail off into the early morning air.

I force myself to pause and contemplate why I'm asking so many questions; why I'm so comfortable around Peeta; why he sets my skin on fire. Frowning, I also try to identify the constant knot in my stomach I've felt since I awoke in his bed. But to no avail.

A gentle kiss brings me out of my thoughts.

"Earth to Katniss."

I force myself to smile.

"Come on Kat, I know you well enough to know that's a false smile."

He stokes the pad of his thumb down the side of my jaw and my smile becomes almost completely genuine.

"You called me Kat again." I whisper.

"I know I did." His voice is as low as mine, almost completely drowned out by the gentle duet of wind chimes and birds.

The knot in my stomach gives a painful twist, like a knife to the gut. I cringe in his arms.

"Are you okay?"

I nod.

"Katniss…" His tone is low and warning, yet still gentle in my ear.

"Peeta…" I copy.

"You're not allowed to copy me, it's against the rules." He complains.

"Where do you find these rules?" I ask. "'_How to tease your girlfriend . net.'"_

"Its '.com', thank you very much."

I laugh silently again.

"You're funny when you're sarcastic."

"But the rest of the time I'm boring as hell?"

"Your words, not mine." I say. "I'm only with you for your dogs."

"Hit me where it hurts, my pets." He clutches his chest and fakes heartbreak.

He kisses the top of my head.

"In all seriousness though," he tells me. "They're not all mine."

"Please tell me you didn't steal a dog."

"I didn't steal a dog."

"Did you steal two dogs?"

He laughs. "No, two of them belonged to my brothers."

I sit up a little.

"Which ones?"

"The chocolate Labrador-retriever is called Max: he belonged to Rye, I think he's around 7 now."

Max's ears twitch at the sound of his name. He lifts up his head and cocks it to the side, looking at us with questioning eyes.

"Come here, boy." Peeta says quietly, in a hushed yet excited tone.

All three dogs clamber to their feet.

"You didn't think that one through, did you?" I ask, reaching my hand out to max.

I look at the tag on his red collar and read the worn engraving. _Max: Rye Mellark, 5550125._

"No, I didn't."

"How come it still has Rye's details on?"

"Because, at the end of the day, he's still Rye's dog; I'm just a glorified kennel." He chuckles softly. "Don't worry he's also chipped to this address."

Max nuzzles his head into my hand and I smile.

"I guess that's a good thing."

Another dog comes over and starts sniffing at me.

"Hey," I say. "You have to at least take me on a date first."

Peeta laughs.

"That's Bannock's dog, Cody. He's around 4 years old now but he still has far too much energy."

"What breed of dog is he?"

"He is a Jack-Russel."

"Yeah, he probably won't be calming down anytime soon."

Cody runs around: he flips between chasing dislodged leaves, his own tale and shadows across the deck.

"He doesn't stay still for long. He is by far the most work."

"What made Bannock choose such an energetic dog?"

"My Dad chose them for all of us. Bannock used to love going running every morning before work, usually through forests or fields. A Border-collie wouldn't have worked as well in his apartment, so he was bought a Jack-Russel."

"Your parents bought you each a dog?"

"Looking back, it sounds kind of silly. When we moved out of the family house, my Dad bought us a dog so we would never be completely alone."

"That's really quite thoughtful…" I trail off. "Did your mom have anything to do with it?"

"They both claimed she did but she always hated animals. So much thought went into picking the right breed; she couldn't have been a part of it."

"You don't seem like you were very close to her."

"That would be because she hated me."

"Come on Peeta, I doubt she hated you."

"Oh no, she hated me. It was made very clear from day one that she hated me."

"Pee-"

He kisses me.

"Stop Katniss, it's fine. You don't need to try to reassure me about it all; I came to terms with it a long time ago."

I look up at him through my eyelashes and bite the inside of my cheek. I just can't imagine anyone hating Peeta.

"Aw, look at you all pout-y."

"I am not pouting." I scowl.

"Oh you _so_ are."

I scowl further.

He scoops me up and moves me onto his lap, kissing my temple in the process.

"Honestly, it's fine."

A small pair of paws presses against my bent knees. I look down and am greeted with a pair of eyes just like Peeta's.

"Let me guess, this is your dog?"

"How could you tell?" He laughs.

"Well you both have incredibly blue eyes and he clearly seems to worship me." I tease.

"Oh, so me and Oscar have that in common do we?"

I nod firmly, a light smirk etched onto my face. Peeta just laughs at me.

"So how old is Oscar?"

"He's only 2."

I scoop up Oscar in the same way Peeta did me, and cuddle him to my chest.

"He's the baby of the group."

Oscar looks up at me with his big round eyes and licks my face.

"Please tell me he will stay this small." I voice.

"Sadly, he won't. He's part German-Shepard so he will get quite big."

"He's a cross?"

"Yeah, though I don't know the other breed."

"You're my favourite." I whisper to Oscar. "But don't tell the others."

He curls his body against my stomach and let's me tickle his small tummy. His grey coat is incredibly soft to touch, despite how brittle it looks.

"I have some competition, don't I?"

"You're just a blank face to me now."

"Forever charming Everdeen, forever charming."

Peeta reaches out and tucks my bangs behind my ear and I smile at him gently.

I feel incredibly comfortable sitting with the pair of them like this but at the same time, something still feels wrong…

I squirm and shift on his lap. Peeta releases his gentle hold on me, giving me the freedom to move if I want. Oscar looks up at me with annoyance, before clambering back to the pack.

"I know I have asked you this before, but are you okay? You seem to be acting differently." He says, gently smoothing down my hair.

I nod, trying not to look him in the eye.

"I'm okay."

"I don't think you are… You've been squirmy ever since we woke up."

"I have no-"

"-yes you have. You've had to tell yourself to relax against me; you've had to tell yourself to smile or laugh; you've been zoning out practically every 5 minutes. Don't think I haven't noticed."

"How come you can read me so well?" I ask sadly.

"I'd like to think that wasn't such a bad thing, Kat." He sighs. "But I like watching you. I've picked up on all you're nervous habits, how you behave when you feel different things."

I turn my head closer to his and he looks at me with solum eyes. I'm just about to lean in when-

"-please don't kiss me in the hopes I'm going to forget this. I know something is wrong, now just tell me."

"Nothing's wrong." I say, slowly getting more aggravated.

"Did you know that your nose always crinkles, and you look to the left, when you're lying?"

I open my mouth but no words come out. Sighing, he kisses my nose.

"Can you please just tell me what I have done wrong? It's not like I'm going to get mad at you… I just want you to be happy."

I sigh too. Taking a deep breath, I grab Peeta's hand and pull it back around my shoulders.

"You didn't do anything wrong." I tell him quietly.

"I must have done something Katniss. Just tell me, I won't be offended."

"You haven't!" I protest, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. "I'm just strange with this kind of stuff."

He places his head on top of mine. "Go on, I'm listening."

"Sometimes I'm fine, and then I get scared. Waking up in your bed has made this seem, very real?" I half ask, half tell him.

"It wasn't real before?"

"That's not what I meant…"

I feel him tense beside me.

"Just tell me what's going in that pretty little head of yours." He whispers gently.

I smile lightly.

"That's the thing, I don't know."

"I have one question."

"Shoot."

"Why did you let me think that we were fine, that you were fine, when you weren't?"

"I _was_ fine."

He reaches out and slowly brushes the side of my face. Gently, he turns my head to look at him.

"Do you realize how confusing you are?" He breathes, sending a wave of bitter-sweet air towards me.

"It's one of my many talents."

Peeta laughs, though I know he doesn't want to.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asks slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"When I first saw you again in the Diner, you acted distant. After talking for a while, you loosened up and actually _spoke_ to me. It's like you finally let Katniss out of the bag. Aside from little flashes, you've been nothing but _Katniss_ around me – I honestly thought maybe you had let me in..."

"I have let you in." I whisper. "When I'm with you, I'm comfortable and happy and I feel somewhat confident-"

"-But I'm here right now. Why are you scared?"

I twist in his arms and place both of mine around his neck, pulling myself up against him. His face is soft and gentle: his eyes giving away his vulnerability.

"It isn't what you have or haven't done Peeta, this is my issue. Waking up in your bed was terrifying! I know that I acted like it was okay, but it wasn't the situation that made me uncomfortable it was the thoughts that came along with it. I end up scaring myself."

"You really shouldn't say you're okay when you're not."

"I know but as I said, I'm stupid with this stuff. I struggle with telling people how I feel and what I'm thinking, and to be frank I hate that you have the power to hurt me."

"Who says I'm going to hurt you?" Peeta asks, frowning slightly.

"I don't think you want to hurt me," I tell him. "But you still have the power to."

"There is this quote that reads '_you don't get a say if you get hurt in this world, but you do have a say in who hurts you_'. Everybody can hurt you Katniss; it doesn't mean that everybody will."

"Why do you think I push everybody away?" I shrug.

"What do you want from me Katniss?" He sighs against my face. "Will you be this on/off throughout the entirety of our relationship?"

"Please understand that I haven't done this before. I've never had someone to care about or someone to care about me. I don't know what the hell I am doing! Things are so big to get my head around."

"It shouldn't be a bad thing, having someone to care about you."

Now it's my turn to brush his cheek.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing."

"I really don't mean to be like this, I just don't want you to be unhappy and at the end of the day, I don't want to get hurt eith-"

I cut him off with my lips. At first his are unyielding, almost not wanted against my own, before he relaxes against me. His hands sit on my lower back and he pulls me closer and closer. I smile against his lips and all the thoughts from before melt away into nothingness.

Peeta grabs my hips and playfully throws me to the side. I land atop of an area of springy grass, just narrowly missing the lines of 6 front paws. A fit of giggles escapes me. He lays next to me, supporting his weight on one elbow, his free hand on my waist. His lips brush mine once tentatively.

The sun has eaten away most of the darkness. I force myself to stand up and cross the roof to look out over the wall. Peeta follows behind and stands next to me.

He seems to be battling with something and so I don't force any physical contact with him.

"I still don't understand you." His voice is low, his words sudden.

"I don't understand myself."

He chuckles softly; I can almost feel his gentle laughter deep in his chest.

"Does that mean it's going to take 19 years to figure you out?"

"And the rest, I'm afraid."

I smile sadly.

"Challenge accepted."

"Oh please, you'll get bored eventually." I wanted my voice to sound light and teasing in the morning air, instead it sounds flat and emotionless.

"No I won't."

"How do you know?"

"You have such incredible eyes, but you're so blind sometimes." He breaths turning and resting his forehead against my temple.

"I'm blind?"

"You've so carefully placed the bricks so that I can't hurt you; you're watching everything that happens here and are moving your walls accordingly. But you've missed one key piece of information."

I open my mouth as if to reply, but fall short. Peeta keeps talking.

"You've missed the fact that I don't want to hurt you. You've missed the fact that I've already fallen for you."

I tense up. His words hit me like an icy wind: my hairs stand on end and my legs tremble against the wall...

I grip the wall tightly, my knuckles turning white.

"Katniss, are you okay?" He asks, touching the small of my back tentatively.

"Shit Peeta, why did you tell me that?" I snap, pushing him away from me.

He stumbles backwards and I feel immediately guilty. I'm about to reach out for him before telling myself not to.

"I thought it was obvious…" He says slowly.

"We just had a huge conversation about how I get scared and that some of this makes me feel uncomfortable. What makes you think that now was a good time to tell me that?"

"You know Katniss, most people would think of that as a good thing. It's not a crime to actually care for people."

I scowl. His words are harsh but his tone remains gentle, making me even angrier.

"You don't know how hard it is for me Peeta. My life revolves around Prim, my job and myself: that's it."

"So you're saying there is no room for anyone else? Couldn't you have figured that out about a week ago?"

"What do you want from me Peeta?"

We stand facing each other; we're only a few feet apart but it feels like miles. A small part of me wants to close the distance, fall back into his arms and tell him I'm sorry. But I can't.

"I want you! I want you not to push me out."

"Then you shouldn't have told me!"

"So you'd rather have a relationship with no affection at all? You want one where you don't have to care, or be tied down; you just want the physical side of things."

"I don't care about physical things." I scoff, folding my arms over my chest.

"You have literally ruled out every option that there is, Katniss."

His voice is becoming sterner with each word, though it cracks every time he says my name.

I pause.

"I should go, I need time to think." I say quietly.

"So you're just going to run away?" He replies, matching my tone.

I look at him then.

He stands with his hands in his pockets, shoulders slouched. His weight is shifted onto his right leg, his left falling limp beside it. It is his eyes that make me move: they're so blue, it's like I'm looking right into him.

I slowly close the distance between us and wrap my arms around his neck. It takes a few seconds for him to want to put his arms around me. Kissing his cheek, I pull him even closer.

"I just need time to think, this won't be goodbye."

"What if you decide that you don't want to continue, whatever we are?"

"Then I'll tell you in person. It's what you deserve. Just let me decide-"

"-Decide if I'm worth it?" He sighs, interrupting my words.

"No Peeta, if I'M worth it."

"I'm confused."

"I need to figure out what I want before I mess you around further. I don't think I'm worth this; I don't think I'm worth you…"

"Of course you're worth me." He tries, moving his hands up to cup my face.

I push them away.

"I'm not, not at the moment anyway and that's okay. Just give me time to sort my head out."

"How long will that take?"

"I'll call you later today, I promise."

I take his hands in mine and place my forehead against his.

"You better stick to that, Everdeen."

I smile, despite the situation.

"Challenge accepted, Mellark."

"Come on, I'll walk you out."

* * *

><p>I walk the streets aimlessly, not wanting to go home but not wanting to go to work wither. I pass familiar and non-familiar faces; not one smile is past between the string of early risers. Most clasp at their paper cups of steaming coffee, some are blasting their favorite tunes in their ears. Each and every person seems transfixed with their shoes, perhaps wondering how they're moving this time of the morning.<p>

I find myself thinking of my Dad and what he would think of my behaviour. He'd probably scold me for stringing Peeta along and letting my feelings be an internal yoyo.

"_You are in charge of your own body, your own mind and your own life. If you want something, fight for it. If you don't, walk away. But it won't always be as easy as black and white." _He'd tell me regularly. _"You have my temper, my dear Katniss. But don't let it rule your life. Close your eyes and count to ten. You'll make the right decision eventually."_

My heart pulls in my chest, aching with the pain of missing him. I think about the guitar being repaired by Haymitch and wonder if it's ready yet. Letting my feet pull me through the streets, I walk the familiar path to my childhood block. It isn't uncommon for Haymitch to go to bed until way after sunrise; hopefully I won't have missed him.

I walk up his bedraggled pathway, hugging myself tightly. Shuffling from foot to foot, I knock loudly on his door.

It opens a crack revealing a glimpse of his ageing grey eyes. His foot is wedged at the back of the heavy barricade, preventing anyone from pushing it open.

"Expecting someone?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No." He says simply. "I was just trying to stop my Goddaughter entering my house right before I'm trying to sleep."

"Haha, very funny." I say, my voice sounding flat.

He opens the door fully and leans against it.

"You okay sweetheart? You don't normally miss a chance sass me."

"Did you seriously just use the word 'sass?'" Despite my low mood, I smile.

"Yes. Now answer the question."

Haymitch's bluntness can be both a blessing and a curse.

"I'm okay, just a little lost I guess."

"Weren't you in those clothes last night for your date? Oh, I'm up to date now."

"Nothing happened." I say, rolling my eyes.

"Why are you lost then, Sweetheart?"

"What, no invite in?" I joke.

"Depending on your answer."

I sigh.

"I miss Dad and I had a fight with Peeta."

"In that case, come on in."

He opens the door allowing me enough space to duck through. I turn around in the hallway and catch him do a survey of the outside environment: scanning bushes and trees.

I wonder why he is being so sketchy.

The inside of his house is inordinately clean. There is enough room to walk through the hallways and the stench doesn't burn your lungs.

"I would offer you coffee but I don't have any."

"I don't like it anyway."

"Take a seat then." He tells me.

"Wow, I can actually see your furniture!"

"You may me by goddaughter, but I will still kick you out."

"I'd like to see you try, old man."

Haymitch's sits down on the arm of a large sofa. I take the cleanest armchair.

"What was the fight about?"

"I don't even know." I almost laugh. "It was about how I keep letting him in and then pushing him out."

"Please, dear god, tell me that is not a euphemism."

I hurl a coaster at his head.

"No you pervert."

He laughs.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because of how alike we are. But also how alike you are to your father, especially at your age."

"Explain." I scowl.

"When your dad first met your mother, he loved her from day one. But it terrified him. You might not know this, but they actually split up for a few months in the early days-"

"-you're not very good at making me feel better."

"He was so scared of losing her, that he lost her."

"Your point?"

"You isolated yourself and you know it. Don't mess Peeta around because he might not come back to you. Not everyone has relationships like your parents."

I look him up and down.

"How come you aren't drunk?" I voice, raising an eyebrow.

"I was going to bed." He shrugs.

"You normally fall into a coma and that counts as your sleep."

"Look Katniss, if you're going to be like this you can leave."

I stand up.

"You're not helping me anyway. You're simply picking holes in my parent's marriage." I say hotly.

"Believe what you want Sweetheart," he shrugs."I think it's relevant."

"I don't care what you think is relevant!"

"Would you just go and talk to him?"

"No! I'm not being unreasonable."

"That's exactly what you are, like all the time."

Haymitch sounds bored, picking and his grubby fingernails.

"Your one to talk anyway. You sit here and drink away the nights when you clearly have the hots for Effie."

He laughs.

"Deflection, very classy."

"I'm not deflecting." I scowl again.

"You're avoiding the point, which is the definition of deflection. I'm guessing the boy said something and you didn't like it, so you've walked away."

I stay silent and gnaw on the inside of my cheek.

"Bingo." He sats proudly, leaning back into the chair, putting his hands behind his head in mock success.

"Get of your high horse Haymitch. You're in your forties and single, you can't tell me what to do."

"I'm just trying to save you some trouble."

"What trouble could you possibly be saving me from?" I argue.

"Let me tell you how this is going to go: you're going to push Peeta away because it's simply too much for you to handle; he might wait for a little while, hoping you change your mind; eventually he is going to find someone else and you're going to realise you want him."

The thought of Peeta with another woman makes my stomach churn, bile rising up in my throat.

"Do you speak from experience?"

"You know me Sweetheart, the past is the past. I never look back."

I frown.

"Don't end up like me, okay?" He tells me finally.

I know that is my cue to leave but my feet remain stuck to the floor.

"Have you finished with my Dad's guitar?" I ask him quietly.

He looks me up and down slowly.

"Yeah, I finished it last night. I had to replace the bridge and strings, alongside some other things. But it should be ready to play really."

"Thanks."

He points to the corner of the room where the guitar sits proudly atop of a stack of unread books.

I tentatively walk over and pick it up. The oak is cool to touch, the familiarity almost singing from the silent strings.

"Thanks." I repeat.

"Right, now get out. I want to sleep."

"Drink yourself to sleep, you mean."

"Prim slept a Rue's last night, she should be home soon." He tells me.

"How do you know that?"

"Because unlike you, she actually talks to me instead of just insulting my life choices."

I roll my eyes.

"I don't ins-"

"-now if you don't mind, I'm going to sleep."

I nod and walk over to the front door to see myself out.

"Katniss, one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Watch yourself out there."

"What, why?"

he pauses.

"I've left some stuff on the path."

I frown for the millionth time today.

"I don't remember seeing any-"

"-well that's enough for today."

He walks over to where I stand and gives me a stern look. His eyes seem to be telling me something, but I don't know what. He nods slightly.

"Now get out of my house!" He false slurs at the top of his voice. Several heads turn my way as he slams the door in my face.

Puzzled, I hold the guitar close to me and walk down the debris free path. I check my phone for the time and discover that it's only 7:30.

I let my feet pull me to my old family home, but find the front door locked. Prim must still be at Rue's…

I contemplate going to find her, but decide just to wait here. She never normally gets home too late after sleepovers, usually not after nine.

Sighing, I plonk myself on the top step. I watch the world pass by for a little while: the cars, the people. It gets boring pretty quickly though as we live in such a quiet street.

"_They live."_ I correct myself.

I place the guitar on my lap in the same way my father taught me, one hand cradles the neck while the other drapes over the body.

I test the strings, one at a time, going from low to high.

_E, A, D, G, B, E_.

They sound just how I remember they should, fresh in the morning air.

I rack my brain for a melody I was taught all those years ago. It takes me a while, but I finally think of one.

My fingers shaking, I gently pluck the appropriate string one after the other. After a while, I get more confident and my fingers seem to dance over the frets.

After a few run throughs, I get the courage to sing to myself very quietly.

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow.  
>A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.<br>Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes.  
>And when again they open, the sun will rise.<em>

_Here it's safe, here it's warm.  
>Here the daisies guard you from every harm.<br>Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true.  
>Here is the place where I love you.<em>

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away.  
>A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray.<br>Forget your woes and let your troubles lay.  
>And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.<em>

_Here it's safe and here it's warm.  
>And here the daisies guard you from every harm.<br>And here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true.  
>Here is the place where I love you.<em>

I stop singing when I get the strange feeling someone is watching me. I quickly dismiss the idea as there isn't another soul on the streets.

I think about the lyrics to the song. It's an old lullaby my parents would sing before Prim and I went to sleep each night. I imagine it's about wanting to protect people you love and letting them sleep peacefully while you fight away any bad dreams.

I find myself wondering if that is only true for parental love, or any form of affection. After a while, I even try to come up with a definition for love. But to no avail.

I'm so lost in thought, I don't notice when Prim walks up the path.

"You look homeless." She comments, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Sitting on our step, you look homeless."

"Well that is what I was going for." I joke.

"What are you wearing?" She asks, as she passes to unlock the door.

I look down.

"It's Peeta's jumper, I forgot I was wearing it."

She turns around quickly and gives me a pointed look.

"You stayed at Peeta's last night?"

"Sort of." I tell her, earning squeals. "But not like that!"

"So it wasn't a booty call?"

"Booty call? Who are you?" I laugh.

"Well it sounds weird to outright ask my sister if she had sex last night."

I laugh again.

"Well I didn't, so there."

"But you stayed the night?"

"I fell asleep at his house and apparently he couldn't wake me up. So he carried me to sleep in his bed."

"That's so sweet!"

I mumble something inaudible under my breath.

Prim raises one of her blond eyebrows at me.

"What?" I ask.

"What did you do this time?"

"Why does everyone keep saying 'what have you done'?"

"Because it's you and somehow I can't really imagine Peeta kicking you out of his house."

I sigh.

Prim walks into the living room and sits on the worn couch.

"Come here and talk me through it."

I chuckle to myself.

"What makes you think you'll be able to fix this?"

"Please," she scoffs. "Do you know how many YA books I read? I'm practically a relationship wizard."

"Really? Is that why you're still crushing on Rory?"

She scowls.

"I am not crushing on that stupid Rory!"

"Oh, of course Prim!" I say sarcastically.

She flushes a deep red.

"You're not one to talk! You clearly like Peeta and you've probably pushed him away."

I go silent.

"Sorry," she mumbles. "That was uncalled for."

"I probably deserved it." I try to smile. "I would have done the same if you teased me about Peeta."

"So are you admitting you like Peeta?"

"Are you admitting you like Rory?"

"Touché."

We both laugh.

"Now seriously, what happened?" She asks, folding her skinny little legs beneath her.

"I don't even know…" I try to explain. "I just freaked out when I woke up in his bed."

"So you stormed out?"

"Not exactly."

"Why do I feel that you storming out would have been better?" She sighs.

I frown.

"We went up to his roof to watch the sunrise and we talked about how I scare quite easily. Literally two minutes later, he confessed he had fallen for me and it was too much."

"Wait wait wait. So this boy admitted he loved you and you threw it all back in his face?"

"He didn't say he loved me." I argue.

"Katniss," she whines. "That's what people say when they're too scared to actually tell you!

"Let me guess, he was trying to reassure you at the time? It was kind of a 'don't worry, I've already fallen for you' kind of thing, wasn't it?"

My lack of response is answer enough.

"Oh Katniss…" She says quietly. "How did you leave it?"

"I said I needed time to think and I'd call him later."

"What have you decided?"

"I don't know…"

"Okay, let me try to help."

"Is this going to be like 20 questions?"

"Yes. But hopefully you'll be more honest to me then you will to yourself."

"Fine…" I resign.

"Do you want to say goodbye to Peeta?"

"No, of course not!" I tell her quickly.

"Do you want to be his friend or his girlfriend?"

"I don't know."

"Could you handle being just his friend? No kisses, no dates, no sleeping together."

"If I had to-"

"-no, not if you have to!" Prim scolds. "Generally speaking, could you quite happily never see him again in a romantic way?"

"I wouldn't be happy, no."

"Do you care about him?"

"I don't want to hurt him, if that's what you mean."

"I think you're coming to your answer."

"But what do I do about this situation."

"Can I ask you one more question and please don't lie to me. I know when you're lying."

"Okay, I guess so."

"Do you love him?"

"I don't even know what love is Prim."

I sigh and let my head hang over the back of the chair.

"Okay, that's the sweetest thing I have ever heard."

"What, why?"

She just smiles at me.

"Love is putting someone before you, thinking of them when making decisions. Not caring about any danger to yourself, so long as they're okay. It's about wanting to spend your free time with them, wanting to share special moments together. Love is being able to look past any flaws they may have and care for that person despite of them. It's about seeing something you know they would like and wanting them to be there to see it too. A person you love will make you a better person, and you them in return."

"You read way too much." I say after a while.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, do you love Peeta?"

"I love who I am when I'm around him." I tell her. "I definitely enjoy his company and he brings out a better side of me. He's sweet and kind, I don't really want to lose him. But I don't know if I am actually in love with him."

"You've only been dating about a week and a half, I wouldn't expect anything otherwise."

"Then why were you pushing an answer out of me?" I protest.

"Because now you know how you really feel about him."

"You're clever."

"No need to sound so surprised."

"Sorry," I laugh. "I'm just amazed a 15 year old knows so much about this."

"I told you, I read a lot."

"So does Peeta."

"I like your hair down, by the way."

"Again, so does Peeta."

"You should call him now. This is all still fixable, if that's what you want."

I nod.

"Thanks little duck." I gently kiss the top of her head. "I should head to work now anyway."

"Call him."

"I will."

* * *

><p>On the way to work I called Peeta's phone 5 times. Each time I waited desperately for his familiar voice, but instead it rang out each time.<p>

I thought about leaving a message, but I'm not good with words at the best of times. Walking through the staff entry door to Trinkets, I send him a quick text.

_KATNISS: Hey Peeta, I've tried to ring you a bunch of times. I'm just heading into work now. I'll try calling you again on my break. I hope you're not too mad at me… x_

Sighing I walk over to my locker, remove Peeta's jumper and fix my apron behind my back. I braid my hair and, catching sight of myself in one of the mirrors, cringe. My clothes are rumpled with sleep and I look exhausted.

"Late night?" A small voice asks, confirming my appalling appearance.

"Not in the way you're thinking, Madge." I tell her.

"What happened?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid."

"I hate how everyone can just tell I've done something stupid." I grumble. "Look, yes I might have made some bad decisions but I'm going to fix them later. I just don't want to bring it all up again when I'm trying to work."

"Okay." Madge says simply. "Glimmer is working today, as well as Jo and the two of us. You can always finish early and _fix things._"

"Thanks. I'll fill you in later, okay? I just need to focus waiting tables or I'll go insane."

"That's fair."

I quickly check my phone for a response from Peeta: none. Taking a deep breath, I close my locker and walk into the semi-filled diner.

* * *

><p>I don't do very well that day. In just the few hours leading up to my break: I got 9 orders wrong, spilt 3 drinks and snapped at a customer. I can't help but think about Peeta and if he's ignoring me or not. The more time that passes without any word from him, the more anxious and guilty I feel: the more I miss him, really.<p>

Sitting in the staff room with my legs draped over the arm of a wooden chair, I dial his number once more. I'm expecting the sound of his answerphone before it even clicks on. This time, I decide to leave a message.

"Hey, it's me. I don't know if you're ignoring me or not, but I've been trying to reach you all day. Look, I don't want to do this over the phone… I just want you to know that I'm sorry and I was out of line." I pause for a second. "If I don't hear from you soon I'll stop by your house on the way home from work. You're starting to really freak me out, Peeta. I hope we're okay. Alright. Bye."

I'm just hanging up the phone when Effie strides into the staff room, her hands on her hips.

"Katniss Anne Everdeen. Would you like to explain why you're so absent minded today?"

"Sorry Effie, I'm just distracted."

"Over the years I've had to put up with Johanna's hangovers, Madge's long weekends and now Glimmer flirting with everything that moves. I have never had any issues with you."

"I know, I know." I sigh. "I have no excuse either."

"Granted I have given everyone else at least a thousand chances, but consider this your first strike."

"Okay Effie, I'm really sorry."

"I know Katniss." She almost smiles. "Would you like to go home? You don't look so great."

I laugh.

"Everyone is just so full of compliments today."

"We have enough staff. Just go home."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks."

I don't really hesitate. I'm barely out of the chair before I start removing my apron and taking my hair out of its messy braid. Confused, I look around for my father's guitar before remembering that I left it at Prim's house.

I half run, half walk, out of the diner. Looking down at myself, I decide to stop by my house first.

"_I could do with a shower and some clean clothes._" I think to myself.

On the way home I try to formulate my words to Peeta. It's at times like these that I truly envy his way with words: everything is almost lyrical with him. In the time it takes to get from Trinkets to my own front door, I have come up with a semi-solid structure.

I'm sorry.

I'm stupid.

Please understand.

I'm not really worthy of you.

Please tell me what you want.

Are we okay?

It might be the most sentimental of plans, but at least this way I will be able to say everything and he can make an informed choice about the future – right?

I race up the stairs and shower as quick as I possibly can. The hot water barely touches my body before I'm throwing on the first pair of clothes I can find.

Madge left a donation of clothes on my bed, so I hurl on a pair of ripped denim shorts and a plain white V-neck t-shirt. Ordinarily, I hate wearing anything that shows my legs but I am past caring. It's too hot for jeans anyway.

I lace up a pair of old converse while simultaneously brushing my teeth. Looking in the small mirror I notice that my wet hair is making the back of my t-shirt damp. I briefly contemplate changing it, but I figure the warm summer air will dry it soon enough.

With that, I grab my phone and keys and walk out the door. I pull the latch down and lock it from the outside, while texting Peeta single handily.

_Katniss: I got off work early, so I'm coming over now. I hope that's okay x_

I tell myself to put the little kiss at the end of the text. Hopefully he will infer that I haven't decided to end out relationship and might decide he won't either.

It takes me just over 20 minutes to get to Peeta's drive way, which is ironically free of cars. I'm in such a rush, so lost in my thoughts, I don't notice the red Captiol vehicle idling behind a large tree.

When Peeta's house finally comes into view, I freeze entirely. Every single curtain and blind is closed, unlike the previous night, and no lights are on upstairs. The air feels suddenly cold around me and all the hairs on my arm stand on end.

"_Please don't have left town. Please don't have left town."_ I think to myself.

I run down the stretch of warn stone to his front door and hammer on it impatiently.

"Peeta?" I call. "It's me. Are you home?"

Nothing.

"Please let me in."

Nothing.

My stomach churning with an unknown emotion, I crouch down and look through his letter box. Everything seems how it was last night and my heart falls in my chest. I'm about to turn around when I notice something on the floor near the entrance to his kitchen.

His phone.

I pull my own from my pocket and hit redial. On the floor the device starts to sing and vibrate loudly, twisting away from investable grasps.

"Why would he leave his phone on the floor?" I whisper.

Reaching up, I give his door knob a little twist. It turns under my touch and opens easily.

The second the door opens, I know something is really wrong. I can hear various howling coming from upstairs, the sounds of 3 dogs in distress. The hallway is simply too dark, too empty without Peeta's being here. The air smells too sweet, unnaturally sweet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a photo frame smashed on the floor. I take a few steps forward and pick it up off the carpet – "_this must have been done intentionally, for it wouldn't have smashed from such a small fall._"

Carefully, I turn the photo in my hands. 5 smiling faces peer up at me: Peeta's family.

I gasp.

I can think of no reason for Peeta to smash up a photo of his late family. Confused, I walk backwards into the centre of his hallway. From this new position, I can see a little more of the property. In the kitchen there is a shadow on one of the lower cabinets, though from my recollection, there shouldn't be anything there.

Scooping up his phone from the floor, I slowly walk into the kitchen.

I scream suddenly.

"Peeta!" I cry.

**Next chapter either later on tonight or tomorrow! I wonder what has happened to Peeta? ;)**

**I already warned you that Katniss would be slightly OOC, hence she realises everything a little quicker. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **


	10. Chapter 9

**I wrote this on my phone and it therefore can't be checked as well as my other chapters - I appoligise for any typos or grammar mistakes!**

* * *

><p>"<em>Peeta!" I cry. <em>

His body lies on the floor, completely unmoving. There is no rise or fall to his chest or flutter of eyelids: he definitely isn't asleep. A pool of sticky red liquid surrounds him, matting his curls together. His right arm is bent at an unnatural angle.

I throw myself to the floor beside him.

"Peeta," I say again. "Peeta, talk to me. Say something."

I get no response.

Looking around frantically, I try to remember the steps you're meant to take when you find someone unconscious.

Step 1: Danger. Can you see any threat that could put your own life at risk?

"_To hell with that,"_ I think. _"This is Peeta."_

Step 2: Breathing. Do they have a pulse?

I reach down and press my ear to his chest. Complete silence.

I can feel my own heart beating faster and faster with each passing second. Tilting his head to the side, I search for any sign of life on the base of his neck. After a few seconds, I feel a very faint throb of his weakening pulse.

"Peeta," I whisper. "Thank god you're still alive."

I take hold of his icy hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Grabbing my phone from the floor beside me, I dial 911.

I didn't realise I was crying until I pressed my phone to my face. My shaking fingers came away wet.

"Come on, come on, come on." I chant as I wait for an operator to pick up the phone.

"Emergency services," A voice says. "What seems to be the problem?"

"My boyfriend has collapsed. There's a lot of blood but I can't actually see a wound."

"Is he breathing, Madam?"

"If he is, it's not very well. His pulse is really faint."

"I will send ambulances immediately," He says. "Do you know where you are?"

"I don't know the exact address." I start, before giving directions to Peeta's house. "The driveway goes on for about half a mile and the door is unlocked."

"Do you know if he has any medical conditions we should be aware of?"

"Not that could cause him to collapse."

"But he does have some form of medical history?"

"He lost his leg in a car accident about a year ago."

"Okay. Please stay with the patient, help should be about 15 minutes."

"15 minutes?!" I almost shout. "Surely you can get here quicker than that!"

"We will do our best. If his condition should decline, or he stops breathing, please call back."

I don't bother replying; I just hang up the phone and chuck it to the floor in frustration.

I shuffle myself closer to Peeta. Grabbing his hand tighter, I use my free hand to brush his hair off his face.

"You'll be okay." I tell him, though I'm not sure who I am trying to convince: him or me.

I begin to cry even harder as I cling to his unconscious body. Repeatedly stroking his hair, I pause to check his pulse every few seconds. The more minutes that pass, the more aware I become of his blood coating my bare legs. I'm just about to lose all hope when the front door gets thrown open and teams of people stream through the door.

"We're in here!" I shout, wiping my face with the back of my blood soaked hand.

"Please can you step away from the body?" A young woman asks.

"I'm not leaving him!" I almost shout.

"I know," she says gently. "And I'm not asking you to. My colleagues just need some space to check him over."

I just nod and slowly rise to my feet. My whole body shakes and the young woman has to completely guide me away from the scene.

"My name is Helen. How do you know the patient?"

"He's my boyfriend, his name is Peeta Mellark."

"And I'll need to inform the hospital of your name, or they won't let you in to see him."

"Katniss Everdeen."

"Everdeen? Does one of your family members work at the hospital?"

"That doesn't matter," I say shortly, not taking my eyes from Peeta. "What's going to happen to him?"

"They're just checking him for physical damage and then they'll get him to the hospital. Once there, they will try to identify why he collapsed and if he has sustained any further damage."

"Damage?" I ask quietly.

"It's too soon to say. I'm sure they'll debrief you on the way to the hospital."

"Will he be okay?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Helen, you're needed." A man with a deep voice says.

"Why don't you go and calm down the dogs upstairs, wipe off the blood and I'll see you in the ambulance, okay?"

After a few seconds, I do as she says. I walk up Peeta's staircase, trying hard not to get any blood anywhere, as if in a dream. This can't be real. This can't be real.

After several attempts, I find a family bathroom. I catch sight of myself in one of the mirrors. My face is bleach white and the only part of my entire being that isn't covered in blood. Red coats my clothes, my legs; it's even caked under my fingernails. I run the tap in the sink and splash my legs until they're somewhat clean, not even bothering to remove my shoes.

Content that I'm no longer _completely_ covered in his blood, I head towards his bedroom.

The howling from the dogs is almost unbearable.

The second I push open the door all three of them jump up at me. Despite my rush to get back downstairs, I make sure to check each one has calmed down almost completely. I walk past them and open the door that leads to the roof, propping it open with a few books.

It might not be the most secure option to leave Peeta's house like this, but it means that Oscar, Cody and Max can all get to the toilet without being shut outside.

Letting them run around upstairs, I quickly grab a grey t-shirt from Peeta's draw and exit, rushing back to the ground floor. I reach the bottom just as they're wheeling Peeta out on a plastic gurney.

His shirt has been cut open, a large mask covering his mouth. His fingertips are slightly blue and his leg has been removed.

"Peeta." I gasp breathlessly.

"Are you ready to go Katniss?" Helen asks me.

I quickly check that I have both mine and Peeta's phone in my pocket before nodding.

I follow their quick footsteps, trying to understand the language they pass between them. Once they've loaded Peeta into the back of the vehicle, Helen holds out a hand to help me up. Not sure if I'd make it on my own, I take it.

I strap myself into one of the seats silently and watch as his lifeless body gets hooked up to thousands of tubes. I can see his chest moving up and down, powered by an industrial machine. After a while I put my head on my knees, unable to watch the constant procedures. A strong hand settles on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. Even without looking up, I know it belongs to Helen.

"He will be fine."

I don't respond though, I only close my eyes and wait for the journey to end.

It seems to last a lifetime.

* * *

><p>I walk around the corridors of the hospital, a cup of steaming coffee in my hands. I don't drink it, but the constant warmth makes me feel a little better.<p>

Or at least I tell myself.

I changed into Peeta's shirt in the toilets, not wanting to have to look at his blood any longer. It looks like I wear nothing on my lower half so I have to keep rolling up the front. Still, it gives me something to do.

Once we arrived at the hospital, Peeta was taken away to have CT scans, CAT scans and MRI scans. Blood samples were taken, tissue samples taken.

The blood came from a wound to his shoulder, possibly from where he fell. Something still doesn't feel right…

The image of Peeta warning me about the Capitol haunts me – he said they always get revenge. Has he been punished for telling me? I try to bite back the theory, but it remains in my mind like the lyrics to an annoying song.

The corridors smell heavily of antiseptic which threatens to choke me with each breath. I hold the coffee in front of my nose: it reminds me of my first (sort of) date with Peeta.

I push open the door to Peeta's room and settle into the blue plastic chair.

He's been out for hours.

His skin is the colour of ash and somehow he looks almost smaller, disappearing into the halo of pillows. I wiped him free of his own blood a few hours ago with a warm wash cloth, but I can still see the ghost of it behind my eyelids.

Every time I blink I see him lying on his kitchen floor: not moving, not breathing, and not really living.

"He's still not awake Katniss, I'm sorry." A nurse tells me.

I take hold of Peeta's cold hand.

"How long do you think it'll be before he wakes up?"

"It could be any minute, any day. There's really no saying…" She says sadly. "Some people talk to them; science has suggested that they can hear everything you say."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Isn't anything worth a try?" She shrugs.

"I'll give you some time alone. I imagine Doctors have been in and out every other minute… He's the talk of the staff room you know. We're all trying to figure out what caused it. Anyway, if anything changes hit the red button behind the bed."

I nod and wait until she leaves the room. I pull the chair closer to his bed and rest my elbows on the edge of the mattress.

"Hey you." I whisper, pushing the hair away from his eyes.

I clasp both of my hands around his left one, massaging some warmth into them. The constant beep of the heart monitor is reassuring, reminding me that he's still alive but lost in his own body.

"I'd really like it if you'd wake up soon Peeta. I don't like seeing you like this…

"I'm sorry about this morning, I was being silly. If anything, today has made me realise how much I care about you."

Breathing deeply, I run my fingers up and down his forearm.

"I can't believe you've already gotten under my skin, you big idiot." I try to laugh.

I put my head on the edge of the mattress and sigh heavily. Feeling the now familiar threat of tears welling behind my eyes, I attempt to blink them away. To no avail – they fall silently down my burning face…

"Please wake up Peeta, please…

"I know that you think I don't want a relationship with you, but I do! I was just scared that I'd end up getting hurt. I had no idea that this would happen..."

My voice cracks and wracked sobs start stealing the oxygen from my lungs.

"Please don't leave, please don't hate me. I'm sorry..."

It reaches the point where I can't talk anymore, let alone breathe. Sobbing half into his hand and half onto the bed, I hiccup and continue to mumble inaudibly. I seem to repeat the process for hours on end, letting the clock on the wall tick down my internal bomb.

"I've lost too many people, I can't lose you too. Please Peeta, I need you…"

After a while, I feel a strange sensation on the top of my head, like something is moving my hair. I put it down to the newly activated air conditioner and decide to ignore it.

"Hey Kitty Kat." A sleepy voice says.

I freeze though the action continues. I'm almost too scared to look up in case I imagined it. Though when I do, I'm greeted with a pair of bright blue eyes.

"Peeta!" I cry.

Without thinking, I throw my arms around him. He shifts slightly beneath me, though any pain I may have caused goes unmentioned.

I continue to sob into the crook of his neck, unable to control myself. He holds my shaking body very tightly in his arms.

"Shhhhhhh." He whispers in my ear. "Shh Katniss. It's okay. Everything's okay."

I shake my head against him pathetically.

"I thought I lost you." I cry.

Peeta gently pulls me away from his chest and wipes the pad of his thumb under my puffy eyes.

"Not today." He says quietly.

I smile slightly through the tears and he grins back at me. The colour is slowly coming back to his face, though he remains far from healthy looking. His lips are still blue at the edges.

Shaking my head slightly, I come to my senses.

"I should go and tell someone you're awake." I say, standing up and wiping my face with the back of my hands.

Peeta opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by a small group of doctors walking through the door, their stethoscopes already in hand. They swarm around his bed and I take a few steps backwards. I earn a sad smile before he practically vanishes from sight.

I stand in the corner and silently scold myself for letting my emotions get the better of me. Peeta probably needs someone to be strong around him and instead, he ended up comforting me. I pick at my fingernails and try to mute the list of injuries the doctor's recount.

Dislocated, fractured right shoulder; a deep wound that needed stitches.

Head trauma.

Semi-heart failure.

Bruising to ribs.

Potential organ failure.

The list seems to go on forever...

I don't know how long the doctors stay but by the time they have finished hissing their medical language, I've managed to count all the tiles on the ceiling, floor, and windowpane. Once they've left I stay in the corner for a few seconds, unsure of what to say or where to stand.

Peeta looks and me, his head tilted to the side.

"Are you wearing one of my t-shirts?"

"Um, yeah. I hope you don't mind, mine was covered in blood…"

"It suits you." He smiles. "So you were the one who found me, eh?"

"Look Peeta," I say, walking back to his side and ignoring his question. "About this morning…"

He tries to push himself up into a sitting position with his good arm, but struggles through the tubes that dangle from his limbs. I walk around the bed slowly and remove the white remote that controls the mattress angle from the wall.

Passing it over to him, he relaxes back and programs it more to his liking.

"Thanks." He says quietly.

"It's okay." I reply.

I shuffle on my feet, not knowing where to put myself. Peeta watches me for a few seconds before scooting over to the edge of the bed.

"Peeta, what are you do-"

"-Here, now you can actually sit."

"You should be lying down, not making space for me. I'm okay standing or sitting on the chair."

"Well _I'm_ not okay with that. I know how uncomfortable those chairs are."

"I'm not too bothered about the comfort."

"Will you stop being so stubborn and sit down?" He asks. "Please."

"Okay." I resign, perching myself on the end. "How are you feeling?"

"I've felt worse." He tries to shrug and winces. "But I've been better."

"Do you have any idea what happened?"

He reaches up and strokes my cheek.

"Let's not talk about that right now, okay?"

"Okay." I smile. "One more thing though…"

"What's that?" He asks, settling his hand back on his stomach.

I lean over him and support my weight next to his far side. Stroking his face, I dip my head down and gently brush my lips against his.

"Hi." I breathe against him.

"Hi." He smiles, catching my lips in another quick kiss.

I lean back slightly.

"About this morning…" I repeat. "I was being really stupid. Of course I want to be with you! I just managed to scare myself-"

He cuts me off with another kiss. I feel him wince slightly at the action of sitting forward on his own, though he tries to hide it by inching closer to me on the mattress. I gently push him back to lie into the pillows.

"You should just tell me if you want to kiss me," I laugh. "It's easier for me to lean down then it is for you to sit up."

He rolls his eyes at me.

"Kissing you is worth the pain of moving."

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes.

"Well then, you're stupid."

"Look," He goes. "This morning was partially my fault too. We haven't been dating that long, I shouldn't have dropped that on you so soon."

"Well I shouldn't have stormed out on you like that, it was unfair." I sigh. "I mean, you told me this really special thing and I ran away from you."

"The more important thing is that you came back."

"I shouldn't have left in the first place."

"You could have handled it better, as it's not like I intended to have you running for the hills." He tries to joke. "But we're both new at this. And you were the one who found me: if this morning hadn't of happened, I might not be here."

"Don't say that Peeta."

"Well it's true." He shrugs.

"Can we just forget it ever happened and go back to how we were?"

His eyes search mine for a moment, before nodding.

"Forget what ever happened?" He smiles.

I smile brightly back at him. Reaching down, I touch my lips to his and brush my tongue against them. Peeta opens his mouth slightly and I deepen the kiss. I lean slightly further forward and his arms wrap tightly around my waist.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" I voice, my damp hair falling around us like a thick curtain.

"Not even a little bit." He breathes.

"Good."

He pulls me closer so I'm lying almost flush against his chest. Giggling silently, I close the space between our faces and kiss him deeply again. We stay like that for a while, talking in hushed voices and exploring each other's mouths.

I only pull away from him completely when a nurse enters the room.

"Mr Mellark?" She says.

I find myself missing the closeness of our bodies and the small sigh that escapes Peeta's lips shows he feels the same. He settles for just holding my hand.

"Yes?"

"The police are here to talk to you. Am I okay to send them through?"

"Can you give us just 5 more minutes?"

The young nurse seems to smile knowingly but agrees.

"Why do we need 5 more minutes?" I laugh. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"Katniss," He whispers with something like urgency in his tone. "Do you remember what I told you outside of the diner?"

He strokes my face slowly and I nod against his hand.

"I don't want you to be caught up in this, okay?"

"I'm your girlfriend. I'm probably already caught up in it."

"Then I want to minimise the damage done to you."

I scowl at him, drawing my hand away from his.

"Can you do me a favour?" He then asks slowly.

"I'm not going home Peeta, I want to stay with you." I reply, matter-of-factly.

"I'm not asking you to _go home_."

He draws patterns on the back of my neck and I twist my head into his hand automatically. He smiles.

"Then it depends on what it is…"

"If I talk to the police now, can you go back to my house and pick up some things? I really hate not being in own clothes and the dogs will need feeding-"

"-But you just said you weren't sending me home."

"I'm actually hoping you'll come back here afterwards. Unless you want to go home, that is." He recovers. "I'll be okay, it's not like I'm going anywhere. And this way: I can talk to the police without the risk of anything retaliating on you; you can get some things from my house, so we don't have to rely on any hospital junk; and then when you come back I will tell you everything."

"Everything?"

He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"I won't hide anything that's been said, I promise. It's for the best Katniss, okay?"

"I have one condition."

"Okay, let's hear it."

"You're not allowed to send me home later on. I get to come and go on my own terms."

"Are you asking to spend the night?" Peeta teases, bringing my hand up to his lips.

I laugh despite myself.

"It's not like I'm really asking for permission here."

"Go on," He tells me. "You should go now."

"Is there anything specific that you want from your house, or are you simply using it as an excuse to get rid of me?"

He laughs.

"Some clothes really, and a sketch pad. You'll find them all in my room; you might have to look around a few draws though."

"I feel like I would be violating your privacy doing that…"

"Why? I have nothing to hide."

"Sure, that's what you say now." I joke. "By the way, I left the roof door open slightly for the dogs. I didn't know what else to do."

"That's fine. Just let them have free reign of the house and access to the roof."

"Okay. I'll be back soon." I tell him.

I lean down and gently kiss his lips.

"You know I'd ask you to stay if I could."

I try to smile.

"I know. It's probably easier this way anyway.

"Thank you, Katniss."

I sigh "Anytime."

I ruffle his curls and walk out the door.

* * *

><p>The walk to Peeta's house is a long one. I debate getting a cab, though I only have enough cash for one trip. In the end, Peeta was unconscious for just over 7 hours: it felt like days. As I walk down the streets I let myself think about how I feel.<p>

The knot in my stomach has melted away completely. All I feel now is the yearning to be by his side, making sure he doesn't collapse again.

"_He's with well-trained doctors, Katniss." _I think to myself. _"Besides, do you really want to hear the police talk about what happened?"_

I shake my head.

"_Of course you don't. Just be thankful that he is awake and has forgiven you."_

I'm about halfway to the house when I feel a vibrating in my back pocket. Taking out the source, it's Peeta's phone.

_**FINNICK ODAIR**_lights up the screen in big letters, alongside a picture of the tanned boy I learned about earlier today. I argue with myself surrounding if I should answer it or not. I do not know this person and it isn't my phone. But Peeta is in the hospital and I am his girlfriend… Surely Finnick should know?

I decide to answer on the last ring and for a moment I thought I missed it.

"Hello?" I say quietly.

"Hello?" A voice replies. "Who's this?"

"Hi, I'm Katniss."

"Oh," comments the voice. "So you're the famous Katniss?"

"Uh, yeah I guess so." I try to laugh. "Why does Peeta talk about me often?"

"Often, all the time, what's the difference?" He jokes. "Anyway, is Peeta actually around or have you just stolen his phone?"

"He can't really get to the phone right now…" I start. "He's sort of in the hospital."

"That's normally the kind of thing you start a phone call with," He tells me. "What the hell happened?"

"Um," I can feel myself getting more and more anxious as I cling to the phone. "He collapsed earlier today. I found him a few hours ago."

"Shit. Do they, at least, know why?"

"If they do, they're not telling me"

"Right okay…" He sighs. "Sorry, I know it's not your fault."

"It's okay."

"Can you get him to text me or something when he gets a chance?"

"Yeah I will."

"Well, it's nice to put a voice to the name Katniss."

"Okay, bye Finnick."

"Bye Katniss."

Replacing Peeta's phone back in my pocket, I pull out my own and dial Madge's number. She answers quickly.

"Hey, did you manage to fix whatever needed fixing?" She asks happily.

"Peeta and I are fine, I think…"

Then why are you calling?"

"Peeta collapsed."

I'm met with stone cold silence.

"What the hell did you do to him?"

"Nothing!" I protest. "I went to his house because he wasn't answering my calls, and he was on the floor barely breathing."

"Is he okay?"

"He's finally woken up but he's still in the hospital."

"So you won't be home tonight?"

"No. Can you do me a favour though?"

"Okay yeah, sure."

"Can you tell Effie that I won't be in work for a few days? I'll take them as holiday leave or something, I don't care. But I won't be working."

"Okay. Glimmer will probably love all the extra shifts." She tells me. "She's making at least $100 daily just off tips. Flaunting her breasts out and flirting with everyone, it's kind of gross. I even saw her flirt with Haymitch yesterday."

"Ew gross," I complain. "He's my uncle!"

"Effie was fuming!"

"Well with her everlasting crush on Haymitch, I can see why." I laugh. "Anyway, I'm going to pick some stuff up for Peeta. I'll text you later on with an update."

"Okay. I hope he gets better soon."

"Thanks, Madge."

We hang up simultaneously. By the time I've gotten my phone away, I'm at Peeta's front door.

* * *

><p>It feels so wrong to be rummaging through Peeta's bedroom draws like this. Unlike searching through something kitchen cupboards, everything in here is incredibly personal.<p>

I find a pair of grey cotton jogging bottoms and a black t-shirt in one cabinet and put them in a pile on his bed. Blushing, I add a few pairs of boxers too.

I spot a phone charger next to his bed and scoop it up. After examining the end, I'm thankful to find it'll charge both our phones. It goes on the pile too.

Inside the top drawer of his bedside dresser are several bounded sketch books. I want nothing more than to sit and flick through them, tracing the lines he once drew. But I tell myself that simply doing this is invading too much of his privacy. I select the top most one and the three pencils that lie next to it.

I'm just about to close the draw when I notice a little-stuffed teddy. I reach down and slowly pull it from its corner.

It's a grey bear with the words _'World's Best Uncle' _written in blue stitching. The item is only about 3 inches tall, with a keychain ring attached to the top.

I smile inwardly as I play with it in my hands.

Coming to my senses, I put the gift back in the drawer and close it shut. I look around for anything else he may need tonight. I throw in a fresh jumper and a pair of warm socks, before walking into the small ensuite bathroom.

Smiling at the pure novelty of it, I take the blue toothbrush that sits in the pot and the tube of half-used toothpaste. Peppermint.

I spot an empty black rucksack tucked behind the door and slowly start to decant everything into it. Slinging it over my shoulder, I head downstairs.

I walk into the kitchen and cringe when I see the mess on the floor. I completely forgot to clean up the blood before we left for the hospital.

Sighing, I set to work on cleaning it up with the cloths I find under the sink. I spray some disinfectant on the floor hoping it'll cover the metallic smell that fills the air. Instead, they just merge and mingle together.

"_The dogs," _I think to myself. _"They need feeding."_

I whistle loudly and three sets of paws come bounding towards me.

"Hey guys," I coo. "Where do we keep the food, huh?"

They look at me with confused eyes.

"Talking to dogs. I've officially gone insane." I mutter.

I search every cupboard for some form of dog food. Luck of the draw, it's in the last one I check.

As they eat, I grab some fruit from the table and add it to the bag. Alongside some crisps, a few bread buns and a block of cheese. I also throw in a few bottles of water.

"Now you guys be good, okay? I'll be back soon." I call, but none of them look up from the bowl of kibble.

After doing a quick survey of the bag, I leave the house and amble back down the path.

* * *

><p>As I head back through the hospital corridors, familiar nurses smile and wave. I find myself surprised at how friendly everyone is, especially as I haven't been the most patient visitor in the world.<p>

Shifting the rucksack on my back, I let my feet pull me back towards Peeta's private room. The pressure on my back is similar to when he holds be tight and I internally smile.

I pause at the double doors.

Through the glass, I can see Peeta perfectly. He lies in the white metal bed, the covers pulled down to his hips. Some of the plastic tubes have been removed from his arms, replaced with wads of cotton wool.

He no longer wears the gown provided, revealing his bare chest to the world. I've never seen it before. Six well-defined abdominal muscles are etched into his stomach, finally revealing just how muscular he really is.

Thinking back, I remember how it felt to explore his chest only the night before. My stomach gives a slight twist.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

Realising he is quite clearly asleep, I open the door as silently as I can manage and slip through the gap.

I put myself in the blue chair beside him and slowly empty out the contents of the bag into the patient draws. The sketchbook doesn't fit.

I rest it on the end of the bed, looking around for somewhere else to store it. Before I can move, Peeta shifts in his sleep and it goes toppling to the floor with a loud clang.

The book opens, sending loose drawings everywhere.

"Shoot." I mutter as I get down to my hands and knees to retrieve all the artwork.

I pause when I see it.

On one of the sheets of heavy paper is a girl lying on a checkered blanket. Her hair falls in a thick band down to her waist, a black trilby hat beside her. She wears a sundress that ends just above her knees and a pair of high-heeled shoes. The girl seems to be smiling at the sky, one hand draped lazily over her tiny stomach.

I feel a pang of jealousy run through me, shaking all the way down to my toes.

But then I realise, it's me. That is what I wore on my first date with Peeta.

Peeta drew me.

I let the words sink in as I stare longingly at the drawing. If only I was that beautiful in real life…

I scoop up the remaining sheets of paper, trying not to look at anymore and carefully put them back in the book - though I leave the drawing of me on top.

Rising from the floor, I don't take my eyes from the paper before me. It's only when I spot Peeta stating at me do I put it down.

"Sorry," I tell him. "It fell off the bed and I was just picking it up."

"I know, it was the noise woke me. It's okay." He smiles.

"Peeta," I ask after a few seconds. "Is this me?"

His cheeks turn a shade of scarlet red when he sees what I'm holding.

"Um, yes that is you… Please don't think I'm really weird."

"Why would I think you're weird? It's amazing!"

"You think so?" He asks excitedly.

Putting the sketchbook back on the chair, I turn around and kiss him gently.

"Yeah, I think so."

"It got very boring without you here." He tells me.

"What a shame." I tease. "Would the nurses not make out with you?"

Peeta laughs.

"I'm not interested in them."

"Oh so you just want me, is that it?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"Well," I lean my head down as if to kiss him but turn away at the last second. "You should have thought about that before sending me away."

He kisses my cheek anyway.

"I didn't want to send you away…" He whispers.

"I know." I tell him.

Peeta shuffles himself closer to the edge of the bed again, making enough room for me to lie on the other side of him.

"Are you sure?" I ask tentatively. "I don't want to hurt you and this is meant to be _your_ bed."

"I'm sure."

I nod, walk the length of the bed and climb onto it as carefully as I can manage.

Peeta's bare skin is cold under my fingertips and I frown slightly.

"Aren't you cold?" I ask, carefully placing myself away from his injures.

"No." He says simply. "My fever spiked before, I literally feel the opposite of the room."

"What do you mean, your fever spiked?"

"It's not contagious, don't worry-"

"-I wasn't worrying…" I mutter.

"Look, I don't want you to worry but they found something unusual in my bloodstream. It's something they've never seen before-"

"-what does this mean?"

"It could mean a lot of things." He stroked my hair slowly. "They're doing more tests now. Which reminds me: they might want to take a sample of your blood too."

"Why do they want blood?"

"Well I was with you for the hours leading up to the collapse. And as I can't remember anything about it, they want to check your blood levels too."

"Do you don't remember it, huh?" I voice after a few seconds.

"Not a thing." He says sadly.

"Do you think it was…?" I let my words trail off.

"Quite possibly, but the hospital doesn't know that."

"Well why not?" I respond hotly. "Maybe they can help! Maybe they can-"

"-they can what? You have to understand that this is bigger than just us Katniss. The police, the doctors; they all work for them. They can't help us."

"Did you lie to the police?"

"No. I told them everything I knew."

"Accept the fact the Capitol has some weird Vendetta on you."

He sighs.

"I just want to get home and spend time with you, okay? I'm just thankful you're not the one in this hospital bed."

"I still think you should tell somebody."

"I'll think about it."

"Did the police say what they were going to do about it?"

He shakes his head.

"They said they would only get involved if the blood results suggested it was from an external stimulus. Otherwise, they're dropping the case."

"That's not fair!" I argue.

"Katniss," he says tiredly. "Just let it go. What's happened has happened, we can't change it."

"What if it happens again?"

"It won't happen again."

"You don't know that." I complain.

He pulls me closer towards him with one arm.

"We'll be fine, I promise."

I'm not sure if it's his tone or if it's simply what I want to hear, but I decide to believe him.

"Okay." I whisper into the air.

"Come here." He says quietly, and I turn myself to face him.

He wraps arms, good and bad, around me tightly. I burrow my head in the crook of his neck and breathe in the scent of Peeta.

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." He tells me.

"I know." I whisper back.

I tilt my head to the side and he captures my lips with his. My body is curled against his less injured side, my legs folded around his. A hand sits on the centre of his chest while the other is lost beneath me.

His left arm is wrapped around my shoulder, keeping me on the bed.

We kiss for a little while until my stomach gives a huge rumble. Peeta laughs beside me.

"Is my little Katniss hungry?" He teases, prodding at my tummy.

"Your little Katniss hasn't eaten yet today."

He frowns.

"That's not good Kat... Go and get some food, I will wait here."

"I brought some from your house, I hope that's okay. I hate hospital food." I admit.

He smiles at me.

"Sounds good. What else did you get from my house?"

"I got: some clothes, your toothbrush, a phone charger, your sketchbooks and toothpaste."

"Thank you." He kisses me gently to show his gratitude.

"That reminds me, though," I tell him. "I had your phone in my pocket and I completely forgot. When I was walking to yours Finnick phoned."

"Oh?"

"I would have left it alone but you were in hospital and I didn't really know what else to do, so-"

"-you answered it?"

I nod slowly.

"Please don't be mad… I thought he needed to know that you were here-"

He kisses me.

"Oh." I whisper.

"I don't mind." He smiles. "I actually find it really sweet that you cared enough about me to talk to my friends."

"Of course I care about you…"

"What did he say?"

"That you talk about me all the time," I tease. "And he wants you to text him when you can."

I pass his phone over quickly, not wanting to seem possessive over it. He takes it from me and throws it back on the bed, obviously not caring.

"Don't you need to text-"

"I have more important things to do."

"What's that?" I laugh.

He rolls me completely on top of his chest.

"Peeta, I'll hurt you." I protest, pushing myself off him.

"You're lighter than a feather Katniss." He argues. "Besides, you're not touching my shoulder at all so you're fine."

"Is it just your shoulder that hurts?" I ask, stroking his face lightly.

He nods.

"My ribs ache a bit and my heads slightly foggy from the fall, but it's also foggy from kissing you so I can't complain."

I laugh.

"I make your head foggy?"

"You have no idea the effect you have on me, Miss Everdeen."

I kiss his lips once, very quickly, before rolling off him.

"Right," I say. "Let's get you some food."

I jump from the bed and collect the bags of food from the bottom draw, placing them on Peeta's legs.

"I need to go and get a knife, I'll be back in a second. Do you need anything?"

"Can you ask one of the nurses if I can have my prosthetic back?"

"Why?" I ask, confused.

"I just don't think you'll want to see my leg without it."

I roll my eyes at him.

"It doesn't bother me Peeta: leg or no leg."

"You say that now, but-"

"-but nothing. You're not putting it on just for me. It doesn't sound very comfortable anyway."

"It's not too bad." He shrugs. "You get used to it after a while."

"Give yourself a break! You don't need to wear it just because I'm here."

He sighs.

"I'm not going to win, am I?"

"Remember who you're arguing with here."

He smiles.

"Okay, fine."

When I return with the sharp knife I had to sneak past security, Peeta has taken everything out of the packets and laid it out on the bed.

"Do whatever you want, just please don't hurt me." He mocks, holding his hands up.

I laugh.

"You feeling okay?"

He nods.

"Nothing has changed in the last 5 minutes."

I scowl at him from across the room.

"Come on, I'm only teasing."

We eat in near silence. Peeta skillfully cuts the apple without getting any of the sugary juices on the bed or cutting himself on the blade.

He places chunks of apple on top of the cheese covered bread and hands one over.

"Thanks."

I don't think I realised just how hungry I was, because I devour it in less than 10 seconds.

Peeta laughs at me.

"Here," he says, handing me another one. "Eat this one too."

"Thanks." I say again.

"I don't know how you can eat so much and remain so small." He comments, squeezing my knee lightly.

"High metabolism I guess." I laugh.

Before long, we've eaten all the food.

"Do you feel any better now?" He asks me.

"I do, thank you."

"Good!"

I quickly move all of the rubbish from the bed and place it all in the corner of the room.

"What clothes did you bring me?" Peeta asks as I'm walking back towards him.

"Oh right." I laugh. "Just some comfy looking stuff really."

I pull them from the draw and place them on the bed.

"Great, thanks." He says, picking them up one by one.

He smirks when he hits the underwear.

"Been rummaging around my draws, have you?"

"You wish Mellark, you wish."

He chuckles quietly.

"I'm just going to the toilet," I say. "It'll give you time to change."

"Great, thanks."

"Could you sound any more sarcastic?"

"I didn't mean too. Sorry, I'm a bit tired."

"It's fine." I smile.

* * *

><p>I stare at myself in the mirror of the women's toilets. Dark black circles are beginning to form beneath my eyes, highlighting how much of a tole today has taken on me. My muscles ache with exhaustion…<p>

"You look a mess." I laugh to myself.

I splash some cold water on my face and run my hands through my straggly hair. Sighing, I put it in a bun in the top of my head.

There is still some blood trapped under my nails, refusing to move with the tepid water. Giving up, I wipe my wet hands on Peeta's t-shirt.

I figure that Peeta has probably had enough time to get changed by now, so I leave the toilets trying not to touch anything on my way out.

As I'm walking back down the corridor, I grab a small cup of water from one of the large coolers.

"Hey," I say as I walk back into the room.

Peeta is sat in the fresh clothes I brought, his legs stretched out over the mattress. The fabric over his lower left leg is empty, sagging from the knee down.

I smile at him.

"Hey, you're back!" He grins. "And you have your hair up. I like it."

"Thanks. I, um. I got you a cup of water so you could brush your teeth later."

"Thank you."

"Anytime." I yawn.

I settle the plastic cup next to my now ice cold coffee and sit in the end of the bed.

"Are you tired?" Peeta asks gently, pulling me into his chest and engulfing me in his strong arms.

I nod into him.

"Come on, let's go to sleep." He tells me.

"No, you should sleep. I'll sit in the chair."

I start to push myself away from him but he pulls be back.

"I'd prefer it if you'd sleep here with me actually." He whispers in my ear.

I shiver against his body.

"But you're the one in hospital…"

"You either sleep next to me or I'm not sleeping." He protests.

I laugh.

Looking at the bed longingly, I think back to how it felt to sleep next to Peeta this morning. I smile.

He kisses my cheek.

"Okay, fine." I resign.

I pass him the cup of water, toothpaste and his toothbrush. He takes them graciously.

"Does this not bother you?" I ask after a few seconds, fiddling with his empty trouser leg.

He simply shrugs as he continues to brush his teeth.

I take hold of the fabric and slowly begin to roll it up. I twist it over and over until it falls just above the stump. Dragging my thumb over the scar, I wait patiently for Peeta to finish.

I look up to find him smiling his crooked smile at me - it's been a while since I've seen it.

"What?" I laugh.

He spits into the empty cup and places it on the side, which is growing increasingly full of rubbish.

"I can't believe it doesn't bother you. I mean, it bothers me…"

I take his hand.

"Why does it bother you?"

"Sometimes it's just a little bit like _'woah, where's my leg?'_ you know?"

I nod sadly.

"That's understandable." I trace the lines on the back of his hand. "But it's just a leg."

"You're pretty amazing, did you know that?" He kisses me sweetly.

"Hmm, sure." I laugh.

I take the tube of toothpaste from beside Peeta's leg and put a tiny blob on my finger.

"This is so gross." I mutter, smearing the minty substance over my teeth.

Peeta passes me a fresh bottle of water and I down the majority of it.

"So gross," I repeat. "I should have probably got some of my own stuff before too."

Kicking off my shoes, I join Peeta on the bed.

"I can't really lie on my side, I'm sorry…" He says.

"That's fine."

I lie sideways. One of my legs is draped over his thighs, the other stretching out down the length of the bed. My head is resting on his upper arm, as he holds me tightly.

I feel incredibly comfortable as I lay here, my body intertwined with his. Despite my exhaustion, my eyelids are no longer heavy.

"Goodnight Katniss."

He kisses my forehead.

"Goodnight Peeta."

After a little while, his breathing levels out. Waves of minty air brush the top of my head and I know that he is already fast asleep.

I rest my hand on his steady chest. Moving closer to his body, he holds me even tighter subconsciously. I smile sleepily.

I stay there a long time, listening to him breathe. He mumbles something in his sleep and nuzzles his head into my neck against me.

I think about how much my life has changed since meeting Peeta, alongside how much I've changed. He makes me a much better person; a much happier person.

I think about all the little things he does when we're together: the gentle kisses, the affectionate strokes, how he draws patterns on my skin. He always finds a way to keep contact with me, a way to show he cares.

I think about that feeling I get in my stomach when he looks at me through his long blond eyelashes. The happiness I feel when he grins from ear to ear…

And just like that, I realise: I've fallen in love with Peeta Mellark.

* * *

><p><strong>Did that make up for Katniss running away in the previous chapter? I told you things would move a little quicker and Katniss would be less blind to her feelings!<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed this update, I love you all!**


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